Ghosts
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! The title refers to memories not supernatural entities. In this alternate universe story, Frank and Joe are stepbrothers and Joe's past comes back to haunt him.
1. Chapter 1

Blond-headed, seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy laughed out loud as he made a left turn onto the road leading down to the zoo, his blue eyes sparkling. He and his brown-headed, brown-eyed, year older brother, Frank, and their two girlfriends had decided to spend the day at the zoo.  
  
Seventeen-year-old Vanessa Bender, Joe's blond-headed, brown-eyed girlfriend, sat in the back of the van beside Callie Shaw, Frank's seventeen-year-old girlfriend. Callie had brought the society column for the New York Times and was reading aloud some of the more outrageous items.  
  
"Oh, here is something interesting," Callie said, pushing her blond hair out of her brown eyes and getting serious. "One of America's richest couples have just had an heir. The child has been named Paul Aaron."  
  
"Who are the parents?" Vanessa asked, peering over Callie's shoulder.  
  
"Austin and Ami Moody," Callie read, then dropped the paper and immediately grabbed onto the back of Frank's seat as Joe swerved.  
  
"Watch it!" Frank shouted, reaching over and helping Joe regain control of the wheel. Joe pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out of the van. He ran behind it and was throwing up as Frank came rushing around to see what was wrong.  
  
"Joe? Frank?" Vanessa asked, getting out of the van followed by Callie.  
  
"It's okay," Frank told the girls, motioning for them to stay back. "Joe?" he asked, a bit softer.   
  
Joe finished and stood back up. "I'm okay," Joe said. "I just got sick."  
  
"I think we should get you home," Frank said, going over and leading Joe to the front seat.   
  
"Why didn't you tell us you weren't feeling well?" Vanessa demanded, reaching out to push Joe's hair back in concern, but stopping as he flinched away from the movement.  
  
"I'm sorry," Joe said, not looking at anyone. "Do you mind if I skip today?" he asked. "I'll get a cab home and you can keep the van."  
  
"No way!" all three shouted at once.   
  
"Drop us off at my place and I will take Vanessa home," Callie said. "We wouldn't have any fun without you," she added to Joe.  
  
"Thanks," Joe said, giving in without a fight. He had to get home and talk to his father and the sooner, the better.  
  
Less than thirty minutes later, Frank pulled the van into the Hardy driveway. Joe got out and ran upstairs to freshen up. Frank went inside and found his dad in the bedroom he had converted into an office when he had moved to Bayport to start his own investigative agency after resigning from the New York City Police Department.  
  
"What are you doing back?" Mr. Hardy asked with a hint of concern.  
  
"Joe got sick," Frank said. "He seems okay now. Quiet though."  
  
"Maybe I should call Dr. Bates," Mr. Hardy said.  
  
"If he gets sick again," Frank agreed. "I'll see you later," he said, leaving the room. Frank went down the hall and into his bedroom. He could hear Joe in the bathroom which connected his room to Joe's.  
  
He heard Joe turn off the water and expected Joe to go into his room, but instead, he heard Joe's footsteps recede down the hallway toward his dad's office. Frank left his room and followed. Frank started to enter the office but stopped in the doorway and listened as he watched his pale brother speak.  
  
"You have to investigate Austin and Ami Moody," Joe told his father, his voice barely a whisper. "He is into all kinds of illegal stuff."  
  
Mr. Hardy swallowed and looked at Joe, his face etched with concern and, Frank would swear, pity. "I can't do that, Son."  
  
"Why not?" Joe demanded. "You're not going to let the fact that they are rich stop you. Are you?" Joe asked in a hurt and disillusioned voice.  
  
"Of course not," Mr. Hardy quickly assured his distraught son.   
  
"Then why won't you go after them?" Joe demanded.  
  
Mr. Hardy stood up and came around to Joe. He put a hand on Joe's shoulder. Joe stiffened for a fraction as memories assaulted him but he released the tension and looked at his father questioningly. "Laura told me," he said softly, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "She told me about the Moodys and she told me that if they ever get investigated for any reason, your adoption becomes null and void. You would have to go back."  
  
Neither saw Frank's face go a deathly white or heard his sharp intake of breath.  
  
"I know," Joe rasped. "But I'm big and I can fight back now," he added unconvincingly.  
  
"No," Mr. Hardy asserted. "I will not let those people near you again."  
  
"You have too," Joe said, tears streaming down his face. "They had another baby. My brother." 


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you talking about?" Frank demanded harshly from the doorway.   
  
Joe jumped nervously as he turned to see who had spoken. Frank saw the stark terror in Joe's eyes and felt a sharp knife enter his heart. Joe turned back to his father, not answering Frank.  
  
"Please?" Joe begged, his blue eyes breaking his dad's heart. "They will do the same to him as they did to me."  
  
"Joe, Son, I can't," Mr. Hardy said, crying. "They'll kill you. I won't let that happen."  
  
"You don't have a choice," Joe insisted. "You can't let them kill Paul."  
  
"Paul?" Mr. Hardy asked.  
  
"My brother," Joe informed him. "Paul Aaron. Please help me help him?"  
  
"You're going to do this with or without my help aren't you?" Mr. Hardy asked, realizing if he didn't help, then Joe would go to the police. Joe nodded. "But you..."  
  
"Will be okay," Joe said. "I'm older and bigger now. And you will have him behind bars before he can hurt me...much," he added softly.  
  
"He could kill you," Mr. Hardy insisted, still fighting the inevitable.  
  
"And letting my brother stay in that situation, letting anyone in stay in that situation, would kill me," Joe asserted. "Please? Just, don't trust any of the cops around him," he added. "He bought them all off," Joe said.  
  
"I don't want you near those people," Mr. Hardy insisted.  
  
"Me either, but if I'm there, then I can make sure they don't hurt Paul. He's defenseless, I'm not," Joe stated.  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Frank demanded, afraid to find out, but more terrified still of not knowing. Joe shook his head, unable to answer him.  
  
Mr. Hardy finally nodded his head. "All right," he said. "I'll put that slime behind bars," he promised. "But Joesph," he said, "I will be checking on you. And if he starts hurting you or your brother, I'm getting you both out of there, no matter waht happens to me."  
  
Joe nodded and left the room to go and pack. Frank looked at his father whose eyes were half closed as tears streamed down his cheeks. "What is going on?" he demanded, truly scared.  
  
"You need to ask Laura," Mr. Hardy said, returning to his chair and wiping his eyes. "The sooner I get started on this investigation, the sooner Joe will be safe again."  
  
Frank wanted to argue, but he couldn't. Not if it meant helping Joe. He left the room and walked down the hall in search of his mother. Frank paused at Joe's door, watching him pack some clothing, crying silent tears. Frank went downstairs and found his mom in the kitchen.  
  
Frank stood in the doorway of the kitchen and tried to think of the best way to broach the subject. "Do you know an Austin or Ami Moody?" he asked.  
  
Mrs. Hardy dropped the glass she held in her hand and it shattered as it hit the floor. "Why?" she asked, her face as white as his father's had been.   
  
Frank told her about Joe's request and their dad's agreement. "Oh!" she gasped softly, before falling into a faint.  
  
Frank ran over and caught his mother and carried her into the living room and put her on the sofa. He ran to get some smelling salts and waved it in front of her nose. Mrs. Hardy lifted her hand and stopped Frank's, pushing it back as she came too. "Where's Joe?" she demanded fearfully.  
  
"He's packing," Frank informed her. She sat up slowly, then stood up. She started for the stairs, but Frank latched onto her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Tell me," he begged her.  
  
Crying, she pulled Frank close to her and huged him. "Sit down," she said gently. "You know I adopted Joe before I met your father?" she asked.  
  
"Dad said you and your first husband hadn't been able to have any kids, and you adopted Joe shortly after he died," Frank said.   
  
"That's right," she concurred. "But you don't know the circumstances of Joe's adoption or how I met him."  
  
"Then tell me," Frank said softly.  
  
"I was walking near the river and I saw a young boy, Joe, floating downstream. I dove in and pulled him out. He wasn't breathing, so I started mouth-to-mouth on him. When he came to, he started crying and asked me why I had to pull him out," she said, fresh tears starting. "That was all he said all night. I held him by the river until the next morning. He cried until almost daybreak.   
  
"The next day, I took him to my house. I got him some dry clothes to change into. He didn't want my help, but he was in no shape to change on his own. When he took his shirt off, I could see he was covered in bruises. The rest of him was the same way."   
  
Frank was staring at his mother with a look of horror. How could anyone have hurt Joe so badly? he wondered. Mrs. Hardy continued to talk and Frank became silent with the quietness of a man who has reached his limit and is ready to take action.   
  
"I called the police," she told him. "They said they would take care of the matter. But they took him back to his parents instead," she added bitterly, guilt washing over her as she remembered Joe's resigned look when the police had arrived.  
  
"I went to their house that night and tried to see him, but I was ordered to leave. I wasn't going to leave without seeing Joe so I climbed a tree. I was going to sneak in through a window and find him. But the tree was in front of his room and I saw him tied to the bed, his face beaten so badly he couldn't even open his eyes." She stopped speaking and cried at the memory.  
  
Frank waited for her to continue and after a few minutes, she did. "I climbed in the window and untied him. I carried him down the stairs, afraid his parents would hear us," she said.  
  
"Why didn't you just help him outside through the window?" Frank asked.  
  
"They had broken both his legs so he couldn't run away again," she explained, more tears falling down her cheeks. "We got outside and I took Joe to another town, almost a hundred miles away. The sheriff was very helpful. He helped me find a place to stay with Joe while his parents were questioned." She stopped speaking and shook her head. "A social worker came back to me and said they couldn't do anything about the Moodys. No one would believe it and the ones who were in charge of the investigation had already been bought off.  
  
"I and the social worker tried to talk to Joe and find out if he knew of anything his parents had done that they couldn't get away with. Joe told us about some dealings his dad had with certain people. The sheriff called a friend of his, a lawyer. He cut a deal with the Moodys. They would let me adopt Joe, but if at any time for any reason they should be investigated, then the adoption would become null and void. And if Joe were not with them at the start of the investigation, then whoever he was with would be aressted for kidnapping." 


	3. Chapter 3

Frank got up and went upstairs, leaving his mom crying in the living room. He knew there was more, but he wasn't sure even she knew everything Joe had been through. Frank entered Joe's room and sat down on the bed beside Joe's duffel.  
  
"You could run away until dad gets enough on him," Frank said after Joe remained silent.  
  
"No," Joe denied with a small shake of his head. "If I don't go back, then they will have mom,dad, even you, arrested for kidnapping."  
  
"That charge wouldn't stick," Frank argued.   
  
"Maybe not," Joe agreed. "But what about Paul? They would take it out on him."  
  
"There has to be another way," Frank insisted.  
  
"I've tried to think of one," Joe said, his face crumbling as he sank down on the bed beside Frank. Frank wrapped his arms around Joe. "I don't have a choice," Joe whispered. "I can't let them do that to another human being."  
  
"What?" Frank asked. "What did they do to you?"  
  
Joe moved away from Frank and shook his head. "I can't talk about it," he said, standing back up and finishing his packing.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Frank insisted.  
  
"Frank, I...it hurts too much. I had nightmares for a year after mom adopted me. Sometimes, I still wake up in a cold sweat." Joe shook his head, trying to clear away the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. "Someday, I promise," Joe said. "But I can't now. I have to leave."  
  
"I'll take you," Frank offered, standing up and grabbing Joe's duffel.  
  
"No," Joe said. "I already called a cab," he added, taking the duffel away from him. "It's better," he began, but Frank's angry expression made him alter what he had been going to say. "It's better for me if they don't see you," he ended, his eyes pleading with Frank to understand. "Help dad. Make this nightmare end soon?"  
  
"I will," promised Frank, his voice breaking as he watched Joe walk out of the room. He stood until he heard Joe reach the stairs then ran after him. He couldn't let Joe go. "It isn't right," Frank insisted. "Why do you have to go back?"  
  
"'Cause money talks," Joe replied bitterly. He looked at Frank, his blue eyes haunted. "Give it laringytis, huh?" he begged. Frank nodded and stood, crying, as Joe ran down the steps and to the front door where his parents were waiting.  
  
Mr. Hardy grabbed Joe in a bear hug. "I'll be watching," he promised. "If it gets too bad, you and your brother are out of there, no matter what the cost," he vowed, willing to go to prison if need be to protect Joe.  
  
Joe nodded as he was released and his mother threw herself at him. "Please don't go back," she begged him.  
  
"I have too," he said softly, hugging her tightly. "It will be different now," he told her. "I know you and Dad and Frank care about me. That's something I never had before," he added, releasing her. "Bye," he said, tossing the duffel over his shoulder and leaving.  
  
"Fenton?" Mrs. Hardy begged her husband. He took her in his arms and gave her a quick hug.   
  
"Shh," he said. "Joe is going to be home soon, and we will probably get a new son too," he added. "I already have an interview with Austin Moody this afternoon for the position of personal assistant."  
  
"What about me?" Frank asked, coming down the stairs.  
  
"I am fixing you a resume to take to the employment office in Fairview. It has been tailor made to accomodate the needs of the Moodys. You will be their new assistant groundskeeper," Mr. Hardy informed him. "But we both need good disguises. We can't take a chance on the Moodys finding out who we are. They would probably take it out on Joe."  
  
Frank nodded his agreement and followed his father upstairs and into his parent's bedroom. There, his father had a dresser filled with various make-up, dyes, and other sorts of disguises. Before the morning was through, Frank and Mr. Hardy would be transformed into people even Mrs. Hardy would not have recognized had she not offered to help.  
  
Joe arrived in Fairview over two hours later, having taken the train from Bayport. He hailed a cab and was let out at the front door to the Moody mansion. Joe swallowed the lump in his throat and prayed he could get through the next hour without throwing up. He climbed the flight of stairs to the front door and rang the bell.   
  
"Yes?" greeted the six foot two butler that doubled as Austin and Ami's body guard. He stared at Joe with sharp green eyes and Joe could see his muscles rippling even beneath the suit he wore.  
  
"I would like to see Mr. and Mrs. Moody, please?" Joe asked in a subdued voice.  
  
"And whom shall I say you are?" the butler asked, his expression remaining neutral although he had recognized the Moody's offspring at once.  
  
"Joesph Moody," he replied, his stomach knotting at the name.  
  
"Wait here," Joe was told as the butler closed the door and went to inform the Moodys of their guest.  
  
Joe waited nervously, wondering how bad his reception was going to be. He didn't have long to wait. The butler returned within two minutes and asked Joe to follow him. He led Joe into the spacious living room where his parents were sitting on the sofa. The butler then left and Joe set his duffel down on the floor.  
  
"And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" asked Ami, laying the magaizine she held down beside her.   
  
Joe took a deep breath. "I came to take care of my brother," he said.  
  
"What makes you think we would let you near him?" demamded brown-headed, blue-eyed Austin, rising to go and stand towering over Joe. Joe had forgotten how big his father was. A full six foot five inches, he weighed two hundred and fifty pounds and was the picture of perfect health. The man prided himself on his physique, working out three times a week at the gym in the Fairview Country Club.  
  
Joe swallowed. "You...you're being investigated," Joe said, his stomach bubbling.  
  
Instead of being angry, Austin smiled. "Wonderful," he said. "You see, little boy, I've been expecting this for quite some time. I've covered my tracks well and greased enough palms. No one will ever find anything on me."  
  
"So I can take Paul and leave?" Joe asked, hopefully.  
  
Ami broke out laughing. "Silly boy. You deserted us, and after all we had done for you. Do you honestly expect us to let you take our only darling child away?"  
  
"I'm not leaving without him," Joe asserted, ignoring the desire to tell her the only thing they had ever done for him was hurt him.  
  
"Oh, no," Austin said with a smile, looking at his blond-headed, blue-eyed, wife. "We can't allow Joesph to leave either."  
  
"You're quite right," Ami agreed. "Joe can take care of his brother."  
  
"Where is he?" Joe asked.  
  
"In the basement," said Ami.  
  
"Why?" demanded Joe. "He's just a baby."  
  
"An annoying baby," Ami said. "I feed him three times a day and change him three times a day; that is enough. I can't stand to hear the crying, so I put him in the basement between feedings. It gives me a headache."  
  
"You take care of him and keep him quite," Austin ordered Joe. "You may take him to the nursery. When he sleeps, go to your room. It has been kept ready for your return." He smiled thinly. "I've even added some new toys in anticpation of your return."  
  
Joe swallowed at the thinly veiled threat. "May I go and get Paul now?" he asked.  
  
"You may," Austin told him. "But remember," he said. "If you let Paul cry, you will get the punishment."   
  
Joe nodded and picked up his duffel and headed toward the basement, an area he knew all to well. As Joe walked down the basement stairs, the memory of his last time there assaulted him. David, Joe's only friend, had been killed in a hit and run. His dad had found Joe trying to sneak out and attend the funeral and beat Joe. Pounding him into unconsciousness, he had then thrown Joe down the steps into the basement and locked him in.  
  
Three days had passed before Joe had been released. Joe had climbed the stairs and waited until he had been left alone before sneaking out. He had gone to the graveyard to say goodbye, but his dad had followed him.  
  
"Stupid bastard," Austin had snarled. "He wasn't your friend. He only hung around you because he thought you could get your hands on my money," he added, but Joe had known he was lying. David had been the one person not afraid of his father that couldn't be bought.  
  
Joe had screamed at his father, calling him a liar and going so far as to accuse him of being the one to kill David. "Me? Would I do a thing like that?" Austin had asked smiling.. "Who knows? If you ever get another friend, maybe he will die too," he had added.  
  
Joe heard the words, condeming him to a friendless existence and making him believe he was responsible for David's death. A feeling which he still carried with him. He had taken off running and not stopped until he had come to a bridge. There, he had looked into the running water and thought his only escape was to die himself. He had jumped, falling into the water and just letting it take him where it would. His promise to David about not killing himself having become void when David had died.  
  
Joe's thoughts came crashing back to the present when he saw his little brother lying on the floor in the basement. Paul was lying on the hard cement, his diaper, overflowing with excrement. Tears sprang to Joe's eyes as he walked over and picked up the quite baby. Paul stirred and began crying. He was a defenseless baby, how could they have left him like this?   
  
Joe shook his head. He knew how. Austin and Ami weren't human beings. They were beings who existed for the sole purpose of showing others how little they had. Joe let the tears fall from his eyes as he carried Paul up the stairs, avoiding the living room and heading up to the nursery.  
  
He knew why Paul had been born. And it was his fault. The Moodys had to have an heir. It didn't matter what condition that heir was in, they just had to have one to keep up appearances. His leaving had taken that away from them. He even knew why it had taken so long for them to have another child. He had overheard them talking about a two year world tour before he had left. He was going to be left in the butler's care, he guessed, if they even thought of him then at all. Two years on the tour and then another year to get pregnant and have the baby.   
  
Joe briefly closed his eyes before he entered the nursery. Had it only been three years ago that he had prayed for escape. Three years of living in safety with his new mom, Laura. And Frank and Dad. A little over a year after being adopted, his mom had met and married Fenton Hardy in a whirlwind courtship. He and Frank had hit it off immediately.  
  
'Frank,' Joe thought, swallowing again. He had to tell Frank everything. He hadn't been able to talk to anyone so openly since David. Paul started crying louder and interrupted Joe's thoughts. Joe looked down at the baby. "I'm sorry little brother," Joe said. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise." Joe only hoped keeping the promise didn't include dying. Almost fourteen years of praying to die just to get away, and now, he prayed he and Paul would survive. 


	4. Chapter 4

A young man with a small sandy mustache and sandy hair, and brown eyes, wearing faded jeans and a short sleeve tee shirt knocked on the door of the Moody home later that afternoon. "Yes?" greeted the butler, peering down at the young man.   
  
"My name is Brett Benjamin," he introduced himself. "The employment agency sent me over. I'm the new garderner's assistant."  
  
"Ah, we have been expecting you. Won't you please come inside?" asked the butler.   
  
Frank, aka Brett, followed the butler into a spacious living room. "Sir, this is Brett Benjamin from the employment agency," the butler said.   
  
"Thank you, Charles, that will be all," Austin said. He waited until Charles had left then asked Frank to have a seat. "Would you care for a drink?" Austin asked Frank.  
  
"No, thank you, Sir," Frank responded, glancing at Mrs. Moody who seemed to be preoccupied with a magazine. Too snobbish to chat with the help, I guess, thought Frank.  
  
"The job requires you live in the field house and are on call six days a week. You will receive five hundred dollars a week, less taxes, and paid vacation for the months of November through February. Is this acceptable?" Austin inquired with a charming smile Frank recognized.  
  
"You are too generous," Frank forced himself to say, loathing the man. He seemed so friendly, but Frank knew it was a sham.   
  
"Come along," ordered Austin standing up. "I'll take you to the field house and introduce you to Gary, your immediate supervisor."  
  
Frank stood and follwed the man from the room. As he passed through the dining room and into the kitchen, Frank wondered exactly how Austin Moody did get all of his money. The entire place seemed to be directly from a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.  
  
"You have a lovely home," Frank said as they exited through the kitchen door.  
  
"Thank you," Austin replied. "My wife prides herself on her decorating capabilities."  
  
Austin introduced Frank to Gary Lang and left the two to get acquainted. Frank looked at Gary, a man in his late thirties with long, frizzy brown hair put up in a pony tail. His brown eyes bored into Frank, waiting for him to say something. But Frank had played this game before and had no intention of the being the first to break the silence.  
  
Frank walked over to a door on the far right side of the field house. "That's my bedroom," Gary informed Frank. "You get the one on the other side of the room. Each has it's own bathroom," he added.  
  
"Thanks," Frank said. "Mr. Moody seems real nice."  
  
"Okay," Gary said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with him. "We'll start first thing in the morning. Mrs. Moody purchased some flowers she wants planted near the kitchen."  
  
"Okay," Frank agreed. "Mrs. Moody didn't talk much," Frank added, trying to get Gary to say something.  
  
"Look, kid," Gary finally said. "The Moodys pay real well, but if you go asking questions and the like, you will not only get fired, you'll never work, anywhere, again."  
  
"Why?" Frank asked. "What could they have to hide?"  
  
"What indeed?" Gary said, shaking his head and going into his own room and closing the door behind him.  
  
Frank waited to see if Gary was coming back out. Five minutes later and still no Gary, he decided to look around. Frank left the field house and walked up to the house. He peered in the window and saw Joe busy sterilizing bottles in the kitchen.  
  
He was about to go in when he saw Austin enter the kitchen. "Hello, Joesph," he heard him say in a smooth voice. Joe spun around, dropping the bottle in his hand.  
  
"Tsk, tsk," Austin said, coming closer to Joe. Joe backed up against the counter.   
  
"I...I"m fixing P..Paul's formula," Joe said, trying hard to be brave.  
  
"That can wait," Austin said, staring into Joe's eyes. "We have some business to attend too."  
  
"L..let me feed him first?" Joe begged.  
  
"Now, now, Joesph," Austin said. "You ran away from home. You have to be punished."  
  
Tears sprang unbidden to Joe's eyes but he did not attempt to argue again. "To your room," Austin ordered. "Now," he added, his eyes hard as steel.  
  
Frank could see the quick movements of Joe's chest and knew his brother was terrified. He watched as the two left he kitchen. He had to do something.  
  
Joe preceeded Austin upstairs and into his old bedroom. "Care to try out your chair?" Austin asked, a smirk on his face. Joe didn't respond. He didn't even raise his eyes. "Take off your shirt and sit down," Austin ordered.  
  
Joe did as he was ordered not looking as Austin picked up a whip and made it crack in the air. "I even bought a new whip for you," he said. "See, I do like to buy my children gifts."  
  
Austin walked around behind Joe and ran a hand down Joe's smooth, tanned back. "A blank page to work on," he said. "How nice." 


	5. Chapter 5

"What the bloody hell?" demanded Austin, running to the window after an enormous crash sounded from outside. He saw the white angel birdbath lying broken on the concrete near the pool.  
  
He looked at Joe. "I'll deal with you later," he promised, dropping the whip and leaving the room.  
  
Austin ran down the stairs and out to the backyard. "What happened?" he demanded of his new employee.  
  
"I'm sorry," Frank said, trying to look distressed, but grateful Austin had come outside. If he was here, then Joe had to be okay.  
  
"What happened?" Austin repeated his question.  
  
"I was looking around the grounds," Frank lied. "I was trying to determine how to trim those branches," he added, pointing to a tree in the foreground, "and I backed into the birdbath. It fell and broke. I'm sorry," he added. "If you still want me to work for you, you can deduct the cost from my check."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Austin told him, smiling. "Accidents happen. I'll just get a new one. But do try to be more careful in the future."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Frank promised. He didn't understand how Austin could seem so nice and be so horrible to his own children. "Um, would you care to show me what my duties are?" he asked, not wanting Austin to return to the house yet. He didn't want this event to be taken out on Joe.  
  
"I believe Gary is going to show you everything you need to know tomorrow," Austin replied. "Look, don't worry about the birdbath. It's okay, really," he added, turning and starting to leave.   
  
Frank was desperately trying to search for something to occupy Austin with when the butler came to the back door. "Sir," Charles shouted at Austin. "There is someone here to see you about the postion of personal assistant."  
  
"Have him seated," Austin told him. "I'll be there in a minute," he added, a slight hint of frustration in his voice. "If you'll excuse me," he said to Frank, then left.   
  
Frank watched him enter the house, then walked around the house, making his way back to the kitchen a few minutes later. He saw Joe in the kitchen making Paul's infant formula. He entered the kitchen. "Joe," he whispered.  
  
Joe jumped as if he had heard a gunshot at close range. He turned around, his eyes wide. A few seconds later, his breathing returned to normal and he gave Frank a wan smile.  
  
"You okay?" Frank asked, his eyes bright.  
  
Joe nodded. "Frank?" he asked.   
  
Frank nodded. "I got a job as assistant groundskeeper," Frank told him.   
  
"Frank, can you get some more diapers? Cloth ones are okay. I can wash them," Joe said, turning back to his task.  
  
Frank came over and put his hand on Joe's shoulder. Joe stiffened and caught his breath at the unexpected contact. Frank quickly released him.  
  
"I'm...I'm sorry," Joe said, trying to fight the tears which threatened.  
  
"This isn't going to work," Frank said in concern. "You have to leave. Take Paul and run-a-way."  
  
"No," Joe refused. "We would be running forever," he said. "He said he had covered his tracks. Maybe I can find something here which can help convict him."  
  
"Dad's in there now," Frank told him. "He is going to be Moody's personal assistant. Dad can search the place. You have to leave before he really hurts you."  
  
Joe turned pleading eyes on his older brother. "I can't," Joe whispered. "Don't you understand? If I do and he catches me, he will kill me or something worse. And there is no telling what he would do to Paul. He was in the basement on the floor, alone, when I got here. They aren't taking care of him," Joe looked into Frank's eyes, begging him to understand. "They have already started doing to him what they did to me. And it only gets worse."  
  
"What did they do to you?" Frank demanded.  
  
Joe shook his head. "There isn't time to tell you," he said, filling the now sterile baby bottles. "Even if dad keeps Austin occupied, there is Charles. He might hear us and he would tell. Please leave now. Please?" Joe begged. He knew the time he had now was only a reprieve. Austin had never forgotten the beatings Joe was due in the past and he doubted he would forget them now. If Frank were caught near him, it would just be that much worse.  
  
"But I heard him," Frank argued. "He's going to hurt you."  
  
"No. He will forget about it and..and if I stay out of his way, I'll be fine," Joe lied as convincingly as he could. Frank cared about him very much, and Joe felt the same way about his new baby brother. He would do whatever he had to in order to keep him safe.   
  
Frank gave a deep sigh of resignation and nodded. He walked toward the door. "Yell if you need me," he told Joe. "And I will be checking on you," he promised before leaving.  
  
Joe finished his task and returned upstairs to his brother. In the living room, Mr. Hardy fnished his interview and was told he could begin the day after tomorrow. He could use tomorrow to move his things into the west wing on the second floor.   
  
After Mr. Hardy had left, Angela looked over to her husband. "We have a dinner date with the Freemonts," she reminded him.  
  
"That's right," Austin said. "I'll have Charles keep an eye on Joesph while we are gone. And when we return, Joe and I will finish what we began earlier."  
  
Frank watched as the Moodys exited the house and left the grounds. "What are you doing?" Gary's voice startled Frank and he let the curtain fall from his hand.   
  
Frank turned around and saw Gary staring at him suspiciously. "I was watching a falling star," Frank lied. "Where are you going?" he asked, noticing Gary had put on a fresh pair of jeans and a button up shirt.  
  
"I have a date, kid," Gary told him. "I'll see you later. Don't wait up," he added, leaving.  
  
Frank waited a few minutes, making sure Gary had left for the evening, then left the field house and crept up to the back of the main house. Seeing no one about, he turned the knob and found it locked. He pulled out his lock pick kit that his dad had given him for Christmas last year, and unlocked it. He entered the kitchen, locking the door back behind him.   
  
Frank saw Charles sitting in the living room, his feet up on the coffee table and watching a movie. He silently climbed the stairs to the second floor. Hearing a noise coming from one of the rooms down the hallway, he made his way down the hall to the room and listened at the door. He pushed the door open a bit and saw Joe rifling through a drawer.   
  
"What are you doing?" Frank hissed, coming inside.  
  
Joe spun around in terror, his hand flying to his heart in relief when he realized it was only Frank. "Don....don't do that," he begged, his breathing slowly returning to normal.  
  
"What are you doing?" Frank repeated his question, his face a mask of worry. "Dad and I are doing the investigation. If you get caught, there's no telling what your dad will do to you."  
  
"I know," Joe admitted. "But if I can help while they are gone, I will. The sooner this is over, the better."  
  
"Have you found anything?" Frank asked, pulling open another drawer and going through it's contents.  
  
"Not yet," Joe said, with a small shake of his head. "But I do know who some of his friends are. Maybe you could get at Austin that way."  
  
"You mean, as an accessory?" Frank inquired.  
  
"I'll settle for anything," Joe stated. "He and Ralph Freemont have been friends as long as I can rember," Joe stated. "That is where they went tonight. I remember Ronnie Harrison and he used to have something going on and a man named Carl Sturgiss. I don't know what the connection was, but Sturgiss used to come over once a week and he was just as mean as Austin was."  
  
"We'll check them out," Frank promised. "And, I will go look through his office, once I find it," he began.  
  
"First floor, the second door past the kitchen on the right," Joe told him.  
  
"Okay," Frank said. "But you go back to Paul. Stay out of sight as much as possible," he ordered.  
  
Joe nodded, knowing it wouldn't matter, but not daring to tell Frank. If Frank or his dad found out what Joe knew, then they would cease investigating and get him and Paul out of there and wind up in prison for kidnapping. He couldn't let them suffer because of him. He would never allow that to happen.  
  
Joe went back to the nursery and checked to see his brother was still asleep, then sat down in the rocker and fell asleep. Several hours later, he was pulled uncerimoniously to his feet. "Hi Joesph," Austin said after Joe had opened his eyes. "It's time to finish what we started earlier." 


	6. Chapter 6

Joe swallowed, looked in the crib to see his brother still sleeping, and put up no resistance as he was pulled from the nursery and down the hall into his old room.  
  
Austin shoved Joe across the room. "Now, Joesph, take off your clothes. And don't keep me waiting too long," Austin added threateningly, scooping up the whip from the floor.  
  
Joe got out of his clothes as fast as he could. He wanted to get this over with. He knew this time would hurt the worse if only because he hadn't been beaten since Laura had adopted him. He stood waiting; wearing nothing more than his briefs and socks.   
  
"My, how you've grown," Austin commented, bringing the whip back and letting it fly.   
  
Joe let out a muffled scream as it made contact with his chest. "Then turn around boy," Austin ordered him. Joe turned so that his back was facing Austin and waited for the whip to land again.  
  
A second later, he felt the second sting. Austin kept the whip flying even after Joe's back had become a bloody mass. "And thirty," Austin said, bringing down the whip for one more lash. "Ten lashes for every year you were absent," he told Joe who had long since sank to his knees.  
  
Joe bowed his head, not wanting Austin to see the tears lurking on his face. But Austin grabbed Joe's hair and hauled him to his feet. "What's the matter, son?" Austin asked. "You think you have had enough? Well, I don't think so," he said, dragging Joe over to the closet. Austin shoved Joe into the closet door.   
  
"You think I don't know what you were doing while I was gone?" Austin demanded. "I can tell when my things have been gone through. You'll not get another chance," he said. Joe smiled inwardly. If Austin thought Joe had done all the snooping, that meant he didn't suspect Frank was a spy.   
  
Austin grabbed Joe's hands and held them out, palms up. "Now, for touching things that aren't yours," Austin said, stepping back. He stooped down and picked up a thick hickory switch. "Keep your palms open," he ordered Joe, then began hitting Joe's hands with the switch.   
  
The tears fell unchecked from Joe's eyes as the rod made contact with his palms repeatedly. After his palms began bleeding, Austin gave Joe fifteen more lashes with the switch before stepping back. Joe put his hands under his arms, hoping the pressure would help ease the pain.  
  
"Ma...may I go now?" Joe asked in a little voice.  
  
Austin laughed. He pulled Joe forward, opened the closet door and shoved Joe inside. "You can resume your duties tomorrow," he told Joe, before slamming the door and locking it. Joe sat huddled in the dark closet, crying.  
  
Mr. Hardy arrived at the Moodys the next morning around eight a.m. He was let in by Charles and shown to the second floor where his room was. "Is that a baby I hear?" Mr. Hardy inquired.  
  
"Indeed," Charles answered. "The Moodys have a son. Two actually," he amended. "The eldest is responsible for taking care of the baby; but I am afraid he was punished last night and hasn't been allowed to leave his room this morning."  
  
"Shouldn't he be allowed out to tend to the baby?" Mr. Hardy asked, trying hard to hide his worry.   
  
"Oh, Mr. Moody will let Joesph out when he feels Joe has learned his lesson," Charles said. "The baby isn't my, or your, responsibility. I suggest you don't bring up the subject again," he added, leaving Mr. Hardy alone.  
  
Mr. Hardy waited until he heard Charles footsteps echoing down the hallway then left his room. He made his way to the nursery. "Shhh," he whispered to the baby, picking it up. "I'll change you and get you something to eat," he promised. He took the baby over to the dresser and picked up the nessecary items, then returned to the crib and sat Paul down. A few minutes later, the baby was wearing a fresh diaper and Mr. Hardy gave the baby a pacifier to suck on until he could find Joe and get a bottle.  
  
He left the nursery and walked on down the hall, ducking into a room out of sight when he heard Austin Moody's voice coming from one of the rooms. "Get your clothes on and go see to your brother," Austin ordered Joe, opening the closet. "And remember, I had better not catch you snooping around again. The only time you are allowed out of the nursery is to go to the kitchen. If I catch you anywhere else, what you got last night will be a taste of Heaven compared to what I will do to you."  
  
"Y..yes, Sir," Joe stuttered, his voice barely a whisper. Austin turned his back on Joe and left the room, hurrying down the stairs and away from his son.  
  
Joe was buttoning his shirt when Mr. Hardy walked into the room. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said.  
  
Joe looked up in fright. "Easy, Son," Mr. Hardy said, coming closer. "It's me." He came over and touched Joe's shoulder.  
  
Joe winced and backed away. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said, his eyes narrowing on his youngest son.  
  
"I'm okay," Joe told him. Joe smiled up at his father. "I'm glad you're here," he said. "I gave Frank some names last night to check out. Have you talked to him yet?"  
  
Mr. Hardy shook his head. "I haven't seen him yet. Oh no!" he said, catching sight of Joe's hands. He grabbed Joe's hands as Joe tried to hide them behind his back. "Why did he do that to you?"  
  
"He found out his stuff had been gone through and wanted to teach me to stay out of his stuff," Joe answered truthfully.  
  
"Oh, Joesph," Mr. Hardy said, pulling Joe to him and giving him a hug, unaware of the grimace of pain which made it's way to Joe's face at the contact. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure he doesn't find anything out of place from now on."  
  
"It's okay, Dad," Joe told him, moving away from his embrace. "I did go through his drawers. I was trying to find something we could use against him."   
  
"Don't do that," Mr. Hardy reprimanded Joe. "Your only responsibility while you are here is to watch out for yourself and your brother."  
  
"Paul!" Joe said, his eyes going wide. "I need to go and check on him," he said, starting out of the room.  
  
"He's okay," Mr. Hardy quickly assurred his distraught son. "I changed him before I came in here. He's hungry though."  
  
"I'll go get his bottle," Joe said, smiling at his dad. "Dad," Joe said, a bit hesitantly. "After this is over, Paul..."  
  
"Will become our son too," Mr. Hardy said, stopping Joe's words.  
  
"I love you," Joe told him, giving him a quick hug before hurrying out of the room.  
  
Mr. Hardy stayed to look around. He frowned as his eyes lit on the whip and noticed for the first time the handmade chair which occupied the middle of the room. He walked over for a closer look.   
  
"Ah, there you are," Austin Moody's voice interuppted Mr. Hardy's explorations.  
  
Mr. Hardy looked around and saw Austin standing in the doorway. "I was looking around and saw this unique chair and just had to have a closer look," Mr. Hardy said. "Wherever did you find it?"  
  
"Oh, I had it specially made," Austin replied with a smile. "It's a present for my eldest son."  
  
"A chair without a back?" Mr. Hardy inquired, looking at the strong oak chair with two large sides where one's arms could be held in place with plenty of room to spare.   
  
"Indeed," Austin replied. "He doesn't much care to have anything touch his back," he explained, smiling at the thought.   
  
"When did you get it?" Mr. Hardy asked.  
  
"Three years ago," Austin answered. "Of course, he hasn't had much use out of it, but that is about to change."  
  
"Really?" Mr. Hardy commented, swallowing the bile which rose in his throat. He looked away from the chair and over at Austin. "I know you said I didn't have to start until tomorrow, but I have already brought my things over and can begin immediately."  
  
"Excellent," Austin said. "Well then, allow me to show you around the house and grounds and introduce you to the rest of my staff. Then I will let you learn your way around my office."  
  
Mr. Hardy follwed Austin from the room and on a tour of the hous. One room drew Mr. Hardy's interest. It was a sunroom filled with easels and various paint supplies.   
  
"You are a painter?" Mr. Hardy inquired.  
  
"Heavens, no," Austin denied. "My wife, Ami, paints. It is one of her hobbies."  
  
"One of?"   
  
"Ami is complex," Austin explained. "She paints, sculpts, tends the garden on occassion, and likes to race. She insists these things help her to relax."  
  
"Racing?" Mr. Hardy asked. "How could racing be deemed relaxing?"  
  
"Ami enjoys the rush it gives her. That is what she finds relaxing," explained Austin, leading Mr. Hardy down stairs.   
  
Austin showed Mr. Hardy the rest of the house, ending the tour in his office. "This is where you will take care of my affairs," Austin said. "And Kent, there is one rule I insist on. If you attempt to break this rule, you will be dismissed without references and without pay."  
  
"What is it?" Mr. Hardy asked, responding to his undercover name.   
  
"My family is private and off limits. There will be no interference of any sort."  
  
"Understood," Mr. Hardy replied. "My job is buisness only."  
  
"No," Austin corrected. "You may handle anything concerning our friends as well. Just ignore my children. To you, they do not exist."  
  
"As you wish," Mr. Hardy forced himself to reply.  
  
"Very good," Austin said. "Well, now that you have seen the house, feel free to explore the grounds. I will expect you in the office to begin your duties in the morning at eight am, sharp."  
  
"Of course," agreed Mr. Hardy. "I believe I will go and tour the grounds." Mr. Hardy left Austin in the office and exited the house via the kitchen. He found Frank in the yard with a pair of clippers in hand. He was near the hedge by the pool and Mr. Hardy went over to stand near him.  
  
"Find anything last night?" Mr. Hardy asked.  
  
"Not much," Frank said. "Joe gave me some names and I found an address book, but that was pretty much it."  
  
"Be careful when you search," Mr. Hardy warned Frank. "Moody found out someone was in his things last night and Joe got punished."  
  
"Is he okay?" Frank asked, quickly turning around and looking at his father in alarm.  
  
"I think so," Mr. Hardy replied. "But we don't have much time. I saw Joe's bedroom this morning. It's nothing more than a torture chamber."  
  
"How could they be so mean to their own children?" Frank asked. "Moody seems so nice."  
  
"Of course he is nice to us," Mr. Hardy concurred. "He takes out all his anger at everyone on Joe."  
  
"And his new son," Frank added, shaking his head. "I understand why Joe had to save his brother. I'd do anything for Joe. But why did he have to come back here? Surely that ridiculous agreement at the time of his adoption wouldn't stand up in court?"  
  
"No, it wouldn't," agreed Mr. Hardy. "But prior to a court date, which could be put off indefinitely, especially if Moody pulls some strings, Laura, you and I could all end up in jail. And, with our reputations, we would never survive to go to court."  
  
"I'll get the address book to Sam," Frank said. "I have to go into town later for some supplies. He can run a check on the names of Moody's friends that Joe gave me."  
  
"Right," Fenton said. "I'll keep snooping around the house. Oh, try and pick up some infant formula for Paul. I have the feeling the Moodys won't see about getting any."  
  
"How did Joe survive as long as he did?" Frank asked. "I mean, if it weren't for Joe now, Paul would probably be half dead."  
  
"I don't know," admitted Fenton. "But I think when this is all over, Joe will tell us."  
  
"If he can," Frank said softly, wondering how much Joe could take this time around. 


	7. Chapter 7

Joe was wondering the same thing himself. Holding his young brother was a feat in itself. Joe's hands were so sore from the whipping, they hurt to touch anything, let alone hold onto something. And his back was a mass of red welts. He winced every time he moved. His shirt may hide the damage, but it was a far cry from a salve.  
  
Joe gritted his teeth and sat holding his little brother, feeding him from a bottle. "It's okay Paul," Joe said, his voice gentle. "This will all be over soon and you and I will go to our real home. You're going to love mom and dad. They are the greatest parents in the world," he said. "And you couldn't get a better brother than Frank. I only hope you love me half as much as I love him."  
  
The baby gurggled happily as Joe talked to him. He reached up and wrapped a little hand around the tip of the bottle as he drank, his eyes looking up into Joe's. Looking into his young brother's face, Joe couldn't help but remember his life as a child. His first day of school was a day he would never forget. He had been scared of what to expect but he had also been relieved that he wouldn't be under the watchful eye of his nanny. She had been as harsh as his parents.   
  
His first day had started out no different than others. An alarm clock rang and he was yelled at to get out of bed and get dressed. He did so, putting on the clothes which had been left lying out for him. Once dressed, he walked downstairs to the kitchen and snuck into the kitchen to grab something to eat from the refrigerator. He closed his eyes as the disaster relived itself in his mind.  
  
Joe opened the refrigerator and looked for something he could eat which would not be missed. He spied a bowl on the bottom shelf and attempted to pull it out. In doing so, he accidentally knocked over a glass dish which held some steaks and liquid. The glass fell to the floor, breaking and spilling the contents everywhere.  
  
"What have you done this time?" demanded Charles.  
  
"I...I'm sorry," Joe stuttered. "I..I..didn't m..me..mean too," he could feel the terror rising in his throat.  
  
"You never mean too," Charles said, staring down at him. "But now you have ruined your parents' dinner. What am I suppose to fix them, hmm?" he asked. "And do you have any idea what your punishment will be when they find out they don't get marinated steaks tonight because of you?"  
  
"What's that child done now?" asked Abigail Steadham, the nanny, as she came into the kitchen.  
  
"See for yourself," Charles said, holding out a hand.   
  
"For making a mess, there will be no breakfast for you," the nanny said. "Go wait in the garage by the car. I'll be out shortly to take you to school. And don't you worry," she added. "You'll get your punishment when you get home from school."  
  
Joe left without a word. He stood by the car in the garage until the nanny arrived and told him to get in the car. Joe climbed in the back seat and sat quietly. He had already learned that talking to his nanny or to anyone, was a big mistake. Inevitably, everything he said got back to his father which led to a whipping plus a punishment for some thing or the other.   
  
When he arrived at school he was put in a room with several other children. Afraid to say or do something which might get him into trouble, he sat quietly, not taking part in anything unless specifically asked to do so by the teacher. After lunch the teacher took Joe to the guidance counselor's office and left him. The counselor spoke with Joe briefly and soon a police officer arrived. The officer took Joe and put him in his patrol car.   
  
"You should be ashamed of yourself," the officer told Joe. "Telling that woman that your parents were mean to you."  
  
"I didn't!" Joe denied, shocked. He hadn't said anything. No matter what they had asked him, he hadn't said a word.   
  
"Don't deny it," the officer told Joe. "You wouldn't be with me now if you hadn't said something."  
  
Joe sat trembling, knowing he was in serious trouble, as the officer drove to Joe's home. There, he was escorted to the front door. His father was summoned by the butler and informed of the reason for the officer's visit. Joe watched as his father gave a "contribution" to the officer's favorite "charity". Then the officer left and Joe was told to go to his room and stand at attention until his father finished the buisness that Joe had interrupted.  
  
An hour after Joe had been sent to his room, he heard the door start to open and jumped to his feet, standing alert as he had been ordered earlier, hoping his dad hadn't found out he had been sitting down.  
  
"Joesph," his father said, looking down at him. "You continue to be a disappointment. I give you the opportunity to go out and associate with children your own age, to begin making connections, and what do you do? You go and complain. I suppose you will have to be home schooled. Fortunately, Nanny Steadham is qualified to teach you.  
  
"But, we must punish you for your indescretions. What goes on in a man's home, should not be gossip for the entire town. You will have to learn silence. Do you understand me?"  
  
Joe nodded. "What do I mean?" his father asked.  
  
"I am not to talk to anyone about you or..or anything that goes on at home," Joe said, fear gripping him as he saw how cold his father's eyes were.  
  
"No, I can see you don't understand me," Austin said. "You will never again leave the premises until you are of age, so whom you talk to does not concern me. No, you must learn to be silent at all times. I am a busy man and I will not tolerate noise from you. Now, take off your shirt and turn around."  
  
Joe swallowed but did as he was ordered. He heard his father step from the room only to return in seconds. He heard a whirring sound and recognized it at once. It was a hardy hickory branch. He yelped as he felt the first sting of pain when the hickory met his flesh. Again, it struck and again and again. Joe couldn't remember the amount of times he was hit. But he remembered when the whipping had ceased. It had not quit until he had quit screaming and crying. When he stood silent and let his father beat him, only then did the lashes cease.   
  
"Clean yourself up," his father had ordered when he had finished. "Then report to Nanny Steadham to begin your lessons."  
  
Joe's forehead wrinkled. He had a nanny when he was younger. Why hadn't Paul? He finished feeding his younger brother; burped him; then eased him back into his crib. Taking a deep breath, he left the nursery and headed downstairs to his father's office.  
  
"Where is Paul's nanny?" Joe demanded.  
  
Austin lifted a brow and leaned back in his chair. He gave Joe a slow smile. "Not very bright, are you?" he asked. "It took you this long to figure out something was amiss."  
  
"What are you planning?" Joe demanded.  
  
"It's simple," Austin said. "Charles has been taking care of the baby since he was brought home. The announcement of Paul's birth was put out to lure you home."  
  
"Why?" demanded Joe again. "Why do you want me back?"  
  
"To teach you a lesson," Austin answered. "You were my heir and you are now. Only the first born inheirts everything in this family. That is how it always has been and how it always will be."  
  
"So you had another child just to get me back?" Joe demanded in disbelief.  
  
"Of course not," Austin admitted with a laugh. "Your mother and I borrowed the child. Your mother complained constantly about how you disfigured her when she wasy carrying you. I could never have gotten her to have another child."  
  
"Why?" Joe asked, confused. "You know I won't stay with you. I am almost of legal age."  
  
"Why?" Austin asked, rising from his chair, his thin smile striking terror into Joe's heart. "You'll stay with me and do exactly as I tell you or your dear sweet adoptive father, mother, and brother will pay forever."  
  
"Please! That is rather cliche," Joe scoffed.  
  
"But true. I own a pharmacuetical company, you know. The company does extensive research," Austin said.   
  
"You aren't making sense," Joe said.  
  
"Allow me to simplify it for you," Austin continued. "There is a poison in Haiti that can turn people into the walking dead. We have taken this poison and modified it. Once the powder is breathed in, the receipent person can no longer be exposed to other people. If they are, they will go insane. You will send the Hardys away telling them you wnat no further contact with them, or they will be condemed to a lifetime of isolation." 


	8. Chapter 8

"If you really have such a poison, why not just use it on me?" asked Joe, not believing him.   
  
"Why, Joseph, if I used the poison on you then how could we raise you properly?" Austin countered. "Besides, you are old enough to start learning the family business. And..."  
  
"I don't want to learn your family business and I don't want to be your heir," Joe told him defiantly.  
  
Austin merely smiled and walked over to a shelf which held several video tapes. He removed one and handed it to Joe. "Watch it in the living room," he instructed Joe. "Then, I will expect you at dinner after you dismiss the Hardys."  
  
"What about Paul?" Joe asked.  
  
Austin reached down on his desk and flipped a switch. "Charles," he summoned the butler. "Please come to my office."  
  
A moment later Charles answered the summons in person. "Return the baby to the orphanage," he ordered Charles. "And demand a retraction from the society column piece."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Charles replied, leaving.  
  
"You may go now," Austin told Joe, sitting back down and returning to work.  
  
Dismissed, Joe made his way to the living room and removed the tape from its case. He frowned when he saw the label. It identified the tape as the final in a series of tests for a new drug designed to help people with autism.  
  
He put the tape into the VCR and hit play. Sitting down on the sofa, he hunched forward so his back would not touch the leather surface. He watched the video in growing horror as the results of the drug were announced.  
  
The drug, after multiple attempts, had resulted in the test subjects ultimate demise. The drug did draw the afflicted person out of their shell but in so doing created a reaction which resulted in the subject's uncontrollable desire to kill.  
  
"Furthermore this drug, when breathed in by healthy people, results in a form of dementia with the only relief being solitary confinement away from all forms of noise. Even the victim's own breathing is painful to hear," the scientist on the screen said. "Here, I must note that this test was not intentional. Our facility was raided by the natives and the drug was released into the air infecting the natives and several of our own research team," the man clarified. "This drug is being classified as a medical failure but is being reclassified as a biological weapon and all research will be turned over to the United States government. The sample you, Mr. Moody, requested, must be destroyed. The powder must be released into a vial of water and shaken up. Water will destroy it's properties.  
  
"I'm sure that by the time you receive this tape, the government will have been in contact. Regretfully, this missive was a failure. Our surviving crew will be returning to the states at the end of the week."  
  
Joe stopped the tape, his face white. With trembling hands he removed the tape and put it back in it's sleeve. This wasn't real, he thought. Austin had hired someone to say those things. And the footage which had accompanied the tape had to of been actors.  
  
Joe made his way back to Austin's office. He stepped through the open doorway and with his back stiff in an effort to prove he wasn't buying the lie Austin was selling, set the tape on the desk.  
  
Austin, having expected this reaction, lifted a folder from the edge of his desk and handed it to Joe.  
  
Joe looked through it then returned it to Austin. "You win," Joe whispered. "I...I'll tell the Hardys to leave," he added, turning away.  
  
"One more thing, Joseph," Austin's voice stopped him. Joe turned to look at him inquisitively. "You will refer to me as your father. Not Sir, not Austin and certainly not Mr. Moody."  
  
"Yes S....Father," Joe answered.  
  
"Go and put on some decent clothing," Joe was ordered. "Tomorrow you get your new driver's license and..."  
  
"I have one," Joe interrupted.  
  
Austin slammed his hands on his desk and stood up. His voice low and menacing, he said, "Don't ever interrupt me again."  
  
Joe bowed his head and waited for Austin to continue. "You will get your license and passport in your real name tomorrow and we will dine with an associate of mine tomorrow evening. Today, you will go with Charles and purchase suitable clothing. He should be back shortly. I suggest you see Mr. Hardy about his, and his son's, dismissal, then get ready to leave." Austin paused and smiled as Joe nodded. "Hardy wasn't too bright. Did he really think I needed a personal assistant and a gardener's assistant at the same time? Those positions were set up because I knew they would not let you come alone." Joe winced. They had all fallen into Moody's trap.   
  
"From this minute on, you will be involved in the family business and you will be sociable when ordered to do so. However, let me remind you, if you displease me in any way, you will be punished. Your age and your involvement will not save you."  
  
"Understood," Joe mumbled, then started out of the office.   
  
"One more thing," Moody stopped him. "If you kill yourself, or as before, try to take your own life, then the poison will be used on the Hardys." Joe nodded without turning around and left the room.  
  
Joe went in search of his dad and found him in the upstairs study. "You shouldn't be here," Fenton hissed, rising to his feet and hurrying over. He tried to give Joe a quick hug but Joe moved away. Hurt, Fenton lowered his arms.  
  
"I want you and Frank to leave," Joe told him, looking out of the window as Fenton watched his back.  
  
"No," Fenton replied, his eyebrows coming together thoughtfully.  
  
"You don't have a choice," Joe told him, not turning around. "You're fired."  
  
"You can't fire me," Fenton told him, his tone filled with curiosity although he asked nothing.  
  
"I can," Joe said, taking a deep breath and hardening himself. He had to be convincing. "You're not wanted here," he continued, turning to face Fenton. "Get your son and leave."  
  
"You don't have the authority to fire me," Fenton began but Joe interrupted him.  
  
"My father knows who you are. Frank too," Joe said, working overtime to keep his resolve as Fenton flinched at Joe's words.  
  
"Then we will all leave," Fenton said. "Get your brother and..."  
  
"I don't have a brother," Joe said.  
  
"What?" Fenton demanded.  
  
"The baby isn't a part of my family," Joe said. "He has been returned to the orphanage where he came from."  
  
"Joe, I don't..."  
  
"Just leave!" Joe snarled. This was too hard. He had to get out of here. "I want you out of this house..." he swallowed. "Out of my life within an hour," he ended, hurrying out the door.  
  
Fenton watched as Joe ran out of the room then returned to the desk and continued copying the list of names and what appeared to be account numbers he had discovered on a computer disk. Finished, he stood up, put things back where he had taken them from, then headed to the room he had been given to retrieve his things. He had no intention of leaving Joe to the mercy of the Moodys but it was obvious they had some kind of hold over him. He would find out what it was and break it if it was the last thing he ever did.  
  
As Fenton was passed the nursery on his way downstairs, he peeked in only to discover the furniture had vanished along with the baby. He continued down the stairs and found Joe, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, standing almost at attention by the front door. "Joe..." he said, but Joe turned his face away.  
  
"Good-bye, Mr. Hardy," Austin said, coming up from behind him.  
  
Fenton rounded on Moody. "What did you do to him?" he demanded, glaring.  
  
"As you can see, I have done nothing to him. My son has simply decided to take his rightful place as my heir. He has chosen to stay with me and Ami of his own freewill," Austin answered. "Ask him."  
  
"Joseph?" Fenton asked, turning back to his youngest son.  
  
"He's telling you the truth," Joe forced the words from his mouth. "I want to stay with my real parents." 


	9. Chapter 9

A car was pulling onto the grounds as Fenton exited the house. When it stopped and Frank climbed out, Fenton shouted to him. "Frank, over here."  
  
Stunned because his father had used his real name, Frank hurried over. "What's wrong?" he demanded, his eyes fearful.  
  
"I'll tell you on the way home," Fenton told him.  
  
"But Joe..." Frank objected, not wanting to leave Joe alone.  
  
"On the way home," Fenton stressed the words. He knew if he told Frank about what had occurred now, Frank would run inside and physically force Joe to accompany them, regardless of the consequences.  
  
Seething in frustration, Frank followed his father to the rental he was driving and the two left.  
  
"Talk," Frank ordered, glaring at his father. "After what he did to Joe, how can we leave him there?"  
  
"Joe fired me. Us," Fenton said, shocking Frank into silence. "He has chosen to remain with the Moodys."  
  
"No way!" exclaimed Frank. "There has to be some reason he elected to stay."  
  
"I know," Fenton agreed. "Moody has managed to obtain some kind of hold over Joe to force him to do what he wants."  
  
"The baby," Frank said but Fenton shook his head and told Frank about the boy not really belonging to the Moodys. "Then what?" demanded Frank, shocked to learn the Moodys would go to such drastic measures to get Joe back and terrified at what could make Joe stay once he had found out the truth.  
  
"I don't know," admitted Fenton, his face set. "But we're going to find out."  
  
"How? We can't go back," Frank said, certain Joe would be the one to suffer if they did.  
  
"I took the liberty of bugging every room in the house," Fenton informed Frank. "I used the best equipment available because I expected something like this might happen."  
  
"What's the range?" Frank asked.  
  
"Two miles," was the answer. "But closer will give us better reception."  
  
"Where do we set up shop?" Frank wanted to know, eager to get started.  
  
"The estate next door is for sale," Fenton informed his eldest son. "I'll make arrangements to lease it. We're going to need someone to listen in twenty-four seven," he continued. "Can you round up your friends and ask them for help? I know they have school Monday, but we really need their help."  
  
"I'll get them to square it with their parents if you can handle the school," Frank said.  
  
"Done," Fenton agreed. "I'll drop you at home. Call everyone over, the girls too, for a pow-wow. I'll take care of the lease and come straight back."  
  
When Frank entered the house later, he was met at the door by his mother. "Where's Joe?" she asked, looking at the door as if she expected him to enter.  
  
"He's at the Moody's," Frank said, watching his mom's eyes squinch shut. "We're going to get him back," Frank promised, then told his mom about his dad's plan.  
  
"Tell your friends to let their parents know I will be the chaperone," Laura ordered Frank. "I doubt the girls would be allowed to go otherwise."  
  
"Will do," Frank said, heading upstairs and into his dad's office to make the calls.  
  
It was almost dusk when Fenton returned home, a triumphant smile on his face. "We have use of the estate next to the Moodys for as long as we need it," he informed Laura and the gathered teens.  
  
Fenton looked at Vanessa and Callie who sat on either side of Frank, their matching expressions of curiosity and worry obvious to all. Then he took in the other teens who had agreed to help, although Frank hadn't told them about the case yet. Sandy-haired, bookish Phil Cohen, Frank's best friend since second grade sat quietly beside rambunctious, blond and beefy Biff Hooper, Joe's best friend since moving to Bayport when he and Laura had become a part of the Hardy family. In the easy chair was tow-headed Chet Morton, munching on an apple. His love of food was only out-done by his loyalty to his friends. And lastly, there was olive-skinned, dark haired Tony Prito. He was the manager at Mr. Pizza, the restaurant owned by his father. When Frank had called asking for Tony's help for a few days, Tony had readily agreed and asked his father for, and been granted, time off.  
  
"What's going on?" Tony asked. "Where's Joe?"  
  
"Is he still sick?" Vanessa demanded, worry marring her lovely features.  
  
"He's not sick," Fenton replied. "But he is in trouble. As you all know," he continued, "when I married Laura, I adopted Joe."  
  
"Yeah, so?" Chet asked. He didn't know what that had to do with anything.  
  
"What you don't know is that Laura had adopted Joe under unusual circumstances prior to that."  
  
"I still don't see what that has to do with anything," Chet interrupted Mr. Hardy again. "He's a Hardy now."  
  
"Just let him finish," Phil told Chet. If Joe was in trouble, Chet's interruptions were costing them time they might not have.  
  
"Joe's parents were very abusive," Laura took over the tale. "And very rich. They practically owned the town they lived in. When I found Joe, he had just tried to kill himself." She paused as the room filled with gasps. "I called the police and they returned him to his parents," she continued, tears falling down her face. "When I went to check on him, I was ordered off the property and was informed a restraining order was going to be issued against me.  
  
"I pretended to leave but went back and climbed a tree which stood just outside of an open window. I was going to go inside and find Joe. But the open window was Joe's. They had broken both his legs and tied him to the bed frame. There was no mattress beneath him...only box springs.  
  
"The room was bare. No books, toys, pictures, not even a sheet or pillow. There was a few items of clothing hanging in the closet, and a pair of shoes on the floor. A desk sat in the corner, neat and orderly, but there were school books on top of it. I found out later that Joe had been home schooled. The worst items in the room were a couple of belts lying on the floor. They were stained with blood." Laura quit speaking until she was once again able to control her emotions. She was completely oblivious to the teens in the room. Even Fenton's comforting arm around her shoulders was unnoticed as the horror of the memory gripped her.  
  
"I untied Joe and carried him down the back stairs. As hurt as he was, he never uttered a sound. I didn't even realize he had been whipped on his back as well as suffering the bruises and lacerations on his arms and torso.   
  
"We made it outside and I put him in the car and drove for a little over two hours before stopping at a hospital. While he was being taken care of, I called the sheriff. He contacted a lawyer he knew who called a social worker. There was no way I could keep Joe from having to go back unless his parents agreed to my adopting Joe. I was afraid if I let the authorities work it out their way, he would be sent back again.  
  
"After talking to Joe and finding out some of the dealings of his parents, the lawyer set up an agreement. Joe could become my son on the condition that his parents never come under suspicion for any wrong doing. If they were to be investigated and Joe were not living with them, then whoever he was living with would be arrested for kidnapping."  
  
"And they are being investigated now?" Phil asked. Mr. Hardy nodded.  
  
"Why did you start investigating his parents?" Vanessa screamed at Mr. Hardy, jumping to her feet and glaring at him. "Didn't you know he would have to go and stay with them?"  
  
"Easy," Frank said, standing up and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Remember on our way to the zoo when Callie was reading the society column?" Vanessa nodded. "Joe got sick because it said his parents had another baby. Joe made Dad start investigating and he went back to rescue his brother."  
  
"But he doesn't have a brother," Fenton resumed the tale. "The Moodys "borrowed" a baby from the orphanage to lure Joe back."  
  
"So you can quit investigating and Joe can come back," Vanessa said hopefully.  
  
Fenton shook his head. "Joe told us to leave," he said. "He said he wanted to stay."  
  
'That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" Biff erupted. "Why would he want to stay with them after they beat him?"  
  
"That's the million dollar question," Frank said. "They have some kind of hold on him and that's why we need your help."  
  
"Anything!" Vanessa and Callie said simultaneously.   
  
"I've bugged every room in the Moodys' house," Fenton informed the group. "We need to set up constant surveillance. Plus, if Joe leaves the grounds for any reason, we need to have someone nearby. Joe tried to kill himself at least once to escape the Moodys. He may try again." 


	10. Chapter 10

Joe awoke as the sun's rays burst through his bedroom window and warmed his face. He sat up slowly, his back sore from the whipping coupled with the box springs he had slept on. He stretched to try and work out the kinks but ended up freezing and groaning. He closed his eyes. How was he going to get through this? Did he want too? There was no way for him to return to the Hardys without putting them in danger. He had to face it. He was stuck with the Moodys for the rest of his life. His father would never allow him to leave once he reached twenty-one.  
  
The rest of my life? Joe thought smiling grimly. Why not just go ahead and get it over with? Only this time, I will make sure no one is around to rescue me, he added silently, remembering Laura pulling him out of the water.  
  
"Good morning, Joesph," Austin's voice snapped Joe out of his reverie. "Before that organ you consider a brain has a thought, I wanted to warn you. Killing yourself, or even trying to kill yourself, will result in the same scenario."  
  
Joe had no need to ask what he meant. Should Joe try and kill himself, the Hardys would be infected with the poison. "Understood," Joe said softly, his last hope for escape shattered..  
  
"Understood what?" demanded Austin, staring hard at him.  
  
"Understood, Father," answered Joe obiedently.  
  
"Breakfast is in ten minutes," Austin said. "If you are late, you will do without."  
  
Joe hurriedly dressed and rushed downstairs. He arrived at the table seconds before Charles entered the room. Charles set a plate filled with biscuits, gravy, grits, eggs and bacon before Austin and one with a solitary biscuit, a scrambled egg and one slice of bacon before Joe. Ami was a late riser and would receive her breakfast in bed.  
  
"You're too big," Austin ragged on Joe. "You look more like an athlete than a businessman. You must lose weight and Charles will see that you do."  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe said meekly, picking up the slice of bacon and popping it into his mouth.  
  
"How dare you?" Austin demanded. "In this house, we say grace. Charles, remove his plate." Charles took Joe's plate away. Austin said grace, forcing Joe to do likewise, then began eating.  
  
"May I be excused?" Joe asked, not looking at his father.  
  
"You may not," answered Austin. "I have arranged for you to attend Brushnell Academy," he informed Joe. "You will begin tomorrow. As my son, you have certain standards to uphold, including being a perfect student. Extra-curicular activities are expected and you will join the fencing club, nothing else"  
  
"Yes, father," Joe agreed.  
  
"You are not allowed to go anywhere after school. Charles will pick you up after classes. Do not keep him waiting."  
  
"But what about fencing?" Joe asked.  
  
"You will not interrupt while I am speaking," Austin snarled. "It seems the Hardys were lax in teaching you manners. But fear not, you will learn. Go to your room and wait."  
  
"Y..yes Fa..father," Joe said, rising from his chair as fear gripped him.  
  
"And stop that infernal stuttering. You will speak clearly or you will be punished!"   
  
Joe nodded. "What did you say?" Austin demanded a verbal answer.  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe replied, speaking very slowly to get the words out through his fear.  
  
"Well? What are you waiting for? Go to your room," Austin issued the command once again.  
  
Joe walked from the room at a brisk pace, knowing if he ran he would be punished for that as well. He hurried upstairs to his room and sat down on the floor by the window, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them as he rocked. The assault of childhood memories long buried surfacing to stoke his fear.  
  
"What have I told you about interrupting?" Austin shouted at the cowering child. "Don't...you..ever...interrupt...me..again..or..you..will..get..ten...times...this," he said, striking Joe on his face to puntucate each word. By the time he left, Joe could no longer see out of his left eye and his lip was bleeding. Joe coughed and out fell two of his baby teeth.   
  
Joe lay still, letting his tears flow freely as he uttered not a sound.  
  
Joe whimpered involuntarily as his father entered his bedroom a little later. "I see you remember what happened the last time you interrupted me," Austin said. He removed the belt from his waist. "I don't want to soil your new shirt. Take it off," he ordered.  
  
At the manor next door, there was an audible gasp and Callie screamed for Frank and Mr. Hardy to come in from the next room. "He just told Joe to take his shirt off," she said as the others piled into the room behind the Hardys.  
  
"Please..." they heard Joe beg feebly. "Not my back."  
  
A whirring noise was heard and a yelp of pain from Joe. "Now," Austin ordered. "Unless you want it twice as bad?"  
  
There was a moment's silence then Austin's voice came through once again. "My, how red the welts still are. Thirty lashes does leave a beautiful display, doesn't it?" A thwacking sound occurred and then Joe was heard.  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe said.   
  
"Turn around," Austin ordered. Joe did as he was told and he felt the belt crash down onto his already molested back.   
  
"Aiihhhh!" Joe screamed in pain as the belt came down swiftly time and time again. Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees, the lashing from the leather belt continuing.   
  
Fenton grabed Frank, holding him still as the sound of Joe's beating continued through the speakers. Finally, nothing but whimpers could be heard by the group.  
  
"Clean yourself up, boy," Austin ordered, tossing down the belt. "You are meeting a friend of mine this evening. And you will be on your best behavior. One word or movement I do not like and you will find yourself sleeping standing up for the next two weeks."  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe whispered, then waited until he had been left alone with the door shut before falling face down on the floor and weeping. 


	11. Chapter 11

His face white, Fenton looked at the youths. "Boys, you're going in undercover at Brushnell. Except you, Frank," he clarified, holding up a hand to prevent his son's forthcoming tirade. "I need your help with the investigation. Callie and Vanessa, you and Laura will be in charge of taping all conversations that come through. As for you four boys," he added, looking at Biff, Tony, Phil and Chet. "I want you to watch out for Joe at school. Tony, you and Chet can sign up for fencing," he added, knowing they had taken lessons with Frank and Joe the previous year.  
  
Fenton looked at Frank. "Until we know what kind of hold he has over your brother, we can't go over there," he stressed. He knew how badly Frank wanted to rescue Joe because he felt ready to mangle Moody himself. But he also knew that since Joe didn't want their help, going after him now could do more harm than good. "I have to arrange for the boys admission to Brushnell. I want your word you will not go next door unless Joe's life is in danger," he said sternly.  
  
"But that bastard is hurting him," Frank rasped, trying hard to control the anger which welled up inside.  
  
"Promise," Fenton ordered, staring at him hard. Finally, Frank nodded and Fenton left the room to go upstairs and make the calls needed to get the boys into the academy. A few minutes later, unable to stand hearing the occasional sniffle from his brother through the speaker, Frank stood up and headed for the door.  
  
Biff was there before him, blocking his exit. "You promised your dad," he reminded Frank. Hearing Joe trying to muffle his cries was starting to affect them all but they believed Fenton Hardy knew what he was doing. They had to believe. Even a hint that he could be wrong could destroy Frank and all the teens knew they had to be strong for Frank. He needed them now more than he ever had.  
  
"I'm not going over there," Frank told him, his face haunted. "I'm going to see Sam. The names Joe gave me could be a lead to getting something on this bastard."  
  
"Want some company?" Biff asked, not quite believing him.  
  
"Sure," Frank agreed. He hadn't really wanted to be alone. It would have given him too much time to think about what was happening to Joe.  
  
"So, why not just call Sam?" Biff asked when they were underway.  
  
"I couldn't stand to listen anymore," Frank replied truthfully, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. Biff put a hand on Frank's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He said nothing, hoping his presence alone would be enough support for his friend. Like Frank, hearing Joe's punishment had taken a toll on him as well.  
  
They arrived at the Radley's apartment in a little over two hours. Ethel Radley, a petite woman with curly brown hair and green eyes let the boys inside. "I'm going to see Angela," she informed her five foot ten inch husband, stretching up to kiss him goodbye as he leaned down.   
  
After Ethel left, Sam led the boys into the living room and sat down on the chair facing the sofa. He leaned back and looked at them quizzically through sharp green eyes, his straight, thinning brown hair slightly ruffled from something he had been doing moments before the boys arrived. He knew Frank was after information but he didn't know why he hadn't just called. However, Sam respected his privacy and if Frank wasn't going to offer an explanation, he wasn't going to push.  
  
"The address book you gave me was filled with names and addresses of people who either died some time ago or never existed in the first place," Sam told him.  
  
"He planted it for us to find," Frank snorted in disgust.  
  
"He knew you were going to be there?" Sam asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. Realizing Sam didn't know about the most recent happenings, Frank brought him up to date. "Poor Joe," Sam murmured. He truly liked both of Fenton's sons and, like the Hardys' other friends, was angered by the unfairness and brutality Joe's natural father was inflicting on him.   
  
"What about the other names?" Frank asked. "The ones Joe gave me?"  
  
"That is another matter altogether," Sam said, a smile flitting across his features. "Those men proved to be some very interesting people. Ralph Freemont is a well-to-do entrepreneur. He's a self-made multi-millionaire who is well known for his charitable contributions," Sam began.  
  
"That's no help," Biff said, frowning.  
  
"However" Sam continued, "Freemont is also known in lesser circles. He's rumored to be involved in a drug cartel operating along the California coast."  
  
"That's a long way away," Biff commented skeptically.  
  
"A plus in keeping him away from any unpleasantness," Frank remarked.   
  
"He has come close to being caught a few times, but his lawyer, Carl Sturgiss, is the reason why he remains free. Sturgiss has never lost a case but only because witnesses have changed their testimony or vanished. When hard evidence was presented, it too either vanished or was tampered with and so became inadmissible in court.  
  
"There are two more well-known men who keep Sturgiss as their lawyer. One is Ronnie Harrison, a man who inherited a fortune from his grand-father then gambled it all away. He vanished from sight for two years only to return richer than ever. I'm in the process of doing a bit more research on Harrison," Sam added. "A friend of mine in the FBI said Harrison is currently under investigation but, keep it under your hats. Even he doesn't know it yet."  
  
"Will do," Frank promised as Biff nodded. "You said two more men. Who is the second?" he asked, hoping it was Moody.  
  
"Austin Moody," Sam said. "He's practically untouchable. One of ...."  
  
"The richest men in the states," Frank finished for him.  
  
"And the meanest," Biff added, scowling.  
  
"You know him?" Sam asked, confused.  
  
"Sorry," Frank apologized. "I thought you knew. Moody is Joe's natural father."  
  
Sam looked thoughtful. Frank and Biff waited quietly for him to speak. "I would suggest you concentrate on Sturgiss," Sam spoke. "If you can get him out of the way I am sure Moody, and Harrison and Freemont will go down."  
  
"Sturgiss is that good?" Biff demanded.  
  
"Definitely," Sam acknowledged. "I'm willing to bet that Sturgiss knows enough to put them away for life and then some."  
  
"No wonder Moody cut that deal with mom about adopting Joe," Frank said. "If Joe knows even a little more about these men, Moody would be sent up forever."  
  
"Ask him," Sam suggested. "Maybe you can nudge his memory."  
  
"If we could get close enough to him," Frank said, breaking into a scowl. "He doesn't want us around him."  
  
Joe slowly rose and made his way into the bathroom. He knew no one would tend his wounds and he couldn't reach them. The only thing he could do was make sure they were kept clean. He turned the shower on and slipped out of his shoes, socks and pants.  
  
He inhaled sharply as he stepped under the spray and let the tears flow freely as the warm water first hurt, then soothed his aching back. Long minutes later, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried off and donned the same clothes he had been wearing before his punishment had been inflicted.  
  
When Joe exited his room, Charles was waiting for him. "Your father desires your presence in his office," Joe was informed.  
  
Joe gave him a brief nod and hurried downstairs, eager to get away from Charles and the intense look he was giving Joe as water trickled down from his still wet hair and landed on his shirt. He could still hear Charles' words and the threat behind them from an earlier time. "You clumsy clod!" screamed Ami, looking at Joe, his shirt soaking wet from where he had spilled his water when she had jostled him by bursting into the room and hitting him with the door. "Can't you even drink water without making a mess?" she yelled, grabbing his arm and leading him from the kitchen into the utility room. "I will not have you messing up the rest of the house and you are not going to change," she told him, opening the door of the dryer. She shoved Joe inside and closed the door with a bang. She turned it on and smiled with satisfaction as she heard his small, mal-nourished body being slammed around in the growingly hot appliance.  
  
"Madam," Charles said. "Your guest has arrived," he said, coming into the room.   
  
"Thank you Charles," Ami replied, then left.  
  
Charles opened the dryer door and caught Joe as he fell into his arms. Joe looked up into Charles dark eyes, trembling. "You owe me," Charles told him, his voice quiet and promising.  
  
Joe shivered as he made his way to his father's office. He had been beaten too severely for Charles to make good on the unsaid threat and when he had been released from the attic he had recovered to the point where he ran away only to try and kill himself. He wondered how much he could take this time? He shook his head. He had no choice but to take everything they dished out, no matter what the punishment or how much it hurt. To fight back, run away, or die, would leave his family, for he still thought of the Hardys as his real family, open to a fate worse than death and he would prevent that at all costs.  
  
Joe knocked on Austin's office door and went inside at his bidding. "You are going to start earning your keep," Austin told Joe when he arrived. "As of today, except for your educational requirements, you will be my personal assistant."  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe replied meekly when Austin looked at him as if waiting for an answer.  
  
"You may start by filing those folders after which this," he set his hand on top of a stack of papers almost two inches thick, "needs to be typed and saved to disk. No mistakes," he added.  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe said.  
  
"Your mother and I have an engagement this afternoon," Austin informed Joe. "When we return, I expect everything to be finished."  
  
"Yes, Father," Joe replied once again.  
  
"Charles will bring you dinner after you have completed your tasks for the evening," Austin added, standing up and leaving.  
  
Joe picked up the folders and began filing them. He was starving and from the looks of the stack of papers he had to type, it would be hours before he was finished.  
  
"At least if the Moodys are leaving, then they can't hurt Joe," Vanessa said, her eyes still red from crying.  
  
"We should follow the Moodys," Phil said. "Chet?" he asked, looking at the plump youth who had seemed to of lost his appetite today.  
  
"Sure," Chet agreed, standing up.  
  
"Tony, why don't you stay with Vanessa?" Phil suggested. "Mrs. Hardy, you and Callie should probably try and get some rest. You'll have to relieve Vanessa later."  
  
"That's a good idea," Laura agreed. "Be careful," she urged as Phil and Chet headed for the door.  
  
Tony sat down beside Vanessa after Laura and Callie left the room. "You okay?" he asked.  
  
Vanessa nodded. "I just don't see how he could be so cruel to his own son," she said.  
  
"There are all kinds of sickos in this world," Tony stated then went quiet as the speaker began picking something up.  
  
"Ami and I should be back around eleven," Austin informed Charles. "Keep an eye on Joesph. If he finishes his work before we return, he may have a peanut butter sandwich. If not, he goes to bed without anything."  
  
"As you wish, Sir," Charles replied. "Have you any other instructions?"  
  
"Yes, remove the chair from his room and move in a desk. He will have a lot of homework to do before he goes to bed after he finishes his work for me. And see to it he has a back pack and any other items he will need for school tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Charles replied again.  
  
"And see about getting a cook," Austin continued. "One who will come in for dinner only. Nothing personal, but your culinary skills leave much to be desired."  
  
"But Sir, the employment agency is closed on Sundays,' Charles reminded his employer.  
  
"Call Allison's Temp Service. I've used them before. There is a twenty-four number listed in the yellow pages."  
  
"Very good, Sir," Charles agreed.   
  
Vanessa's eyes met Tony's, both sparkling with excitement, then jumped up and ran in search of Laura. She found her and Callie in the kitchen talking to Fenton who had finished his calls and was fixing a snack. Vanessa told them about the conversation Austin and Charles had.  
  
"This is good," Fenton declared, pulling out his cell phone and reaching for the phone book on the counter. "Laura," he added, not looking away from the book. "Call Gertrude in Lincolnton and have her fly home immediately." 


	12. Chapter 12

Joe walked into home room the next morning and took a seat in the back of the room. A boy with cropped red hair, glasses, and freckles sat down beside him. "Hi," the boy said. "My name is Jimmy Harrison," Biff introduced himself. Mr. Hardy had given them all clear instructions that Joe was not to find out who they were.  
  
Joe looked at him and nodded. "What's your name?" Biff asked, trying to get Joe to open up. He had never seen Joe so still and it was kind of disquieting.  
  
"Joe Moody," Joe answered, then turned back to face the front of the room.  
  
"I'm new here," Biff continued talking. "It's my first day. What are the teachers like?"  
  
"Don't know," Joe replied. "Ask someone else."  
  
"Hey. I'm just trying to be friendly," Biff said.   
  
"I don't need any friends," Joe told him, not turning around.  
  
"Everyone needs friends," Biff said, worried even more. Joe's natural parents weren't anywhere around and Joe was still acting weird.  
  
"Not me," Joe told him, turning around to stare at him with blue eyes as cold as steel.  
  
At a loss for words, Biff was relieved when the teacher chose that moment to enter the room. A few minutes later they were dismissed to attend their first class. Biff hoped Tony had more luck with Joe than he had.  
  
Tony came in and took the empty seat behind Joe. Joe already had his book open and was engrossed in the first chapter. "Hey, man," Tony said, his eyes a bright blue and his hair a dark brown with blond highlights. "That's the wrong chapter." Tony knew he was right because half the school year had already passed.  
  
"I'm just trying to refresh," Joe responded, not looking away from his book.  
  
"Forget that," Tony told him. "Welcome to Brushnell," he continued. "I'm Ken." He waited for Joe to introduce himself, but Joe kept reading. "What's your name?"  
  
"Joe," he replied, not looking up.  
  
"What.." Tony started but was interrupted by the entrance of the teacher.  
  
"Good morning," said the algebra teacher entering the room. "We are having an exam tomorrow morning so this morning I want to see what each student can do. Bob Freeman, please come to the board."  
  
The teacher went down the list alphabetically. "Joe Moody," the teacher called out a little later. Tony watched Joe stand up, swaying a bit. He's dizzy, thought Tony, watching Joe in concern. Joe took a deep breath and walked up to the board. Finishing the problems given him in minutes, he returned to his seat, grasping the edge of it for support as he sat down.   
  
When the bell rang announcing the end of class, Tony saw Joe stand up, once again taking a few seconds to battle the dizziness he felt. "Are you okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," Joe answered before moving away.  
  
Tony left after Joe and caught up to Chet before he could enter his next class. He told Chet about Joe's dizzy spells. "Figures," Chet said. "He never finished his work on time last night. He's probably weak from hunger."  
  
"You're right," Tony admitted. "He probably hasn't had hardly anything, if anything, since he returned to them."  
  
"Well, he will be eating lunch," Chet said. "We'll just have to make sure he gets enough to do until tomorrow in case they don't feed him tonight either."  
  
In class, Chet took a seat three away from Joe. He noticed how Joe ignored anyone who tried to talk to him, answering any questions asked but offering no further information. He was quiet and reserved and spent all his spare time reading his text book. This behavior was so unlike Joe, Chet felt himself getting angry all over again at the people responsible for the change. It was like Joe had been killed and some alien had taken over his body.  
  
Finally, the bell rang and Joe headed to lunch. He was famished. He got his tray and took the first table available where no one sat. At once, he began inhaling his food. "Hi," Tony said, sitting down beside Joe as he was finishing his last fry. "Joe, right?"  
  
Joe nodded and started to lift his tray but Chet and Phil arrived just then followed by Biff. "Hi," Chet said. "I'm Todd Hampton. We have history together," he said.  
  
Joe nodded. "I was just leaving," he said.   
  
"Ah, don't go," Phil said. "I'm Pete Marsden," he introduced himself. "Joe what?"  
  
"Moody, wasn't it?" Biff asked, looking at his plate and frowning. "Anyone want my burger?" he asked. "I don't eat beef."  
  
"Forget it dude," Chet said. "I'm on a diet. Any takers for my fries?"  
  
"Joe's new guy," Phil said. "School rules. New guy has to do whatever he's told on his first day."  
  
"You're right," Chet said. "Well, Joe, looks like you end up with two lunches," he added, passing his fries as Biff handed him his burger and Phil gave Joe his milk.   
  
Tony handed over his corn on the cob. "I never pass up a chance to get rid of my veggies," he said.  
  
Joe gave a wan smile. "Thanks," he said and, too hungry to pass it up, began eating.  
  
"Hey guys!" said another boy coming up to the group. "I hear some of you signed up for fencing. I'm Mick Bryons, the fencing captain. We meet twice a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays and when we have an event upcoming, we meet the entire week beforehand." He gave Joe a playful slap on the back. "See you there," he added, taking off and not seeing how Joe's face took on an angonizing expression.   
  
All the boys except for Phil had been looking at Mick but Phil saw Joe's face and when Joe excused himself as soon as Mick left, he followed Joe out of the lunch room and into the boys' bathroom. Joe, who arrived first, unaware he was being followed, had unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off as he entered a stall. He stood with his shirt hanging loosesly from his arms, his back breathing in the stale air as tears streamed down his face.   
  
"Oh, my God," Phil whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he peered over the stall from the one next to it.   
  
Joe spun around and looked up. "What kind of pervert are you?" Joe demanded, realizing Phil had to be standing on the toilet in order to peer over the stall wall.  
  
"I saw your face when Mick hit your back," Phil siad truthfully. "I thought you might need some help."  
  
"I don't," Joe said.  
  
"And you do," Phil continued as if Joe had said nothing. "Who did that to you?" he asked, although he knew the answer.  
  
"None of your business," Joe told him.  
  
"Look, you can either come out of the stall and let me treat those places on your back or I can tell the dean and he can handle it," Phil threatened.  
  
"No," Joe said, his eyes wide in fear.   
  
"Then come on out and let me put something on that back before it becomes infected, if it isn't already," Phil insisted.  
  
Joe exited the stall and Phil came out of the one next to him. Phil walked over to the cabinet beneath the sink and came out with the expected first aid kit. "Why are you so distant?" Phil asked as he started treating Joe's back, wincing when Joe groaned in pain. "I'm just trying to be your friend."  
  
"I don't need any friends," Joe said.  
  
"Everyone needs friends," Phil told him.  
  
"I don't want any," Joe rephrased his objection.  
  
"Well, you're going to have me as one regardless," Phil told him.  
  
"No!" Joe shouted, turning around and glaring at Phil.  
  
"Why not?" Phil demanded.   
  
"I...I just don't," Joe replied, turning back around.  
  
"That's not a good enough reason to send me packing, you know," Phil told him.  
  
"Then how's this one?" Joe asked turning around once again and staring him in the eyes. "I had a friend. One friend who wasn't afraid. He's dead now and...and I think he was killed because he was my friend." 


	13. Chapter 13

Frank arrived at the office of Carl Sturgiss dressed in a brown suit, white dress shirt and a tie. His hair had been dyed blond and he was wearing colored contacts making his brown eyes a medium blue. He entered Sturgiss' office and looked around. The secretary's desk sat in the center of the room with four file cabinets lined along the left wall. There was a combination printer, fax machine, copier to the right of the desk and a computer with a seventeen inch monitor on the desk. The chair was padded leather with arms and could easily swivel to look out the lone window against the right wall which looked out to an ocean view.   
  
Behind the secretary's desk was a door which led into Sturgiss' office. Frank could hear the man moving around and cursing. Frank smothered a grin as he strode over to the door. He knew why the lawyer was so upset. The man's secretary slash personal assistant had been arrested last night for possession of cocaine. It had been discovered when a road block had been set up and his car was stopped for a routine license check. Apparently, there had been a problem with the man's license which resulted in him and his car being searched. Frank knew what the problem had been. His father had called in a favor at the department of transportation and had the license deleted from their records. Next, Fenton had orchastrated the roadblock with the help of a Federal agent who had ordered the local authorities to set one up.   
  
The man had called Sturgiss at home to bail him out but because of the sensitive nature of his work, he was not permitted to return to his duties until his case had been tried. Sturgiss had called the employment agency in town for a replacement. Expecting this, Fenton had arranged for Frank to be the temporary secretary for Sturgiss.  
  
Frank knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by a chubby man in a black two piece suit with thinning black hair and beady brown eyes. He was a full three inches shorter than Frank's own six foot one inch and frowned as he looked up into Frank's blue eyes. "Who are you?" Sturgiss demanded.  
  
"Jeremy Creedence," Frank introduced himself. "The employment agency sent me over."  
  
"Have you ever worked in a law office before?" Sturgiss inquired.  
  
"No, Sir," Frank answered truthfully. "But I did temp for an accounting agency for three months," he fibbed.  
  
"I guess you will have to do," Sturgiss said, sighing. "I have a luncheon appointment at eleven this morning and another client due to come in before then. Look up their names on the desk calendar and get their files out. Go over them and be prepared to get me anything I need when I call you," he ordered.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Frank agreed, then exited the man's office and closed his door.   
  
A tall, lean woman with graying hair and angular nose entered the airport and looked around the place with sharp hazel eyes. Spying her younger brother, she lifted her suitcase and walked over to him. "What's the emergency?" she asked.  
  
"Welcome home, Gertrude," Fenton said, giving his sister a hug.   
  
"Welcome home indeed," she replied, looking at him suspiciously. "You have Laura call and tell me to come home at once and I get no reason for the request?" She shook her head. "Fenton, you have pulled some major practical jokes on me in your day. This had better not be another one. I was enjoying myself."  
  
"No joke, Gert," Fenton replied, his brown eyes serious as they locked with her hazel ones. "Joe is in real trouble and right now, you are the only one who stands a chance at getting close to him."  
  
"Trouble?" she declared, her eyes filled with concern at once. "What's wrong? And what do you mean get close to him? You make it sound like he doesn't want anything to do with you."  
  
"He doesn't," admitted Fenton wearily. "But I don't think it's because he wants it this way."  
  
"Stop speaking in riddles," Gertrude insisted. "And tell me what's going on and how I can help."  
  
On the way to the house Fenton had rented, he told her everything that had happened since Joe had come to see him in his office on Saturday morning. "Poor Joe," she gasped. "But why did he have you leave?"  
  
"That's the million dollar question," Fenton replied. "The Moody's are looking for a cook. I thought we could get you in disguise and you could watch out for him. Maybe find out why he doesn't want our help anymore."  
  
"Of course," Gertrude agreed at once. "And I won't leave until I do!" she added with determination.  
  
When they arrived, Laura and Vanessa helped Gertrude get into disguise while Callie monitored the electronic bugs at the Moodys. Laura had gone into town while Fenton had picked Gertrude up and purchased new clothes, make-up, a wig, and glasses for the disguise. After an hour, Gertrude had been transformed. She now sported a classic lilac pant suit and had shoulder length brown hair with a pair of blue framed glasses. To alter her face so that Joe would not recognize her, she had something on that Joe had never before seen his aunt wear: make-up. Her lips were a pale pink and a light beige foundation had been applied. Her eyelids were lavendar with highlights leading to her eyebrows.   
  
"Wow!" Fenton commented when he she walked out of the bedroom. "Wow," he said again, unable to come up with anything else because the transformation was so startling.  
  
"Honestly," Gertrude reprimanded him. "You've seen me in make-up before."  
  
"I know," he admitted. "Reminds me of when you were dating Eugene Lansing. You went all out for him."  
  
Gertrude blushed. "That was twenty some years ago," she retorted.   
  
"But the effects were the same," Fenton said, smiling at her. "You were beautiful then and you are now."  
  
"Meaning I am not without all this hullabaloo?" she demanded, narrowing her gaze at him.   
  
"Of course not," Fenton quickly denied. "You're beautiful, just in a different way."  
  
"Harumph!"  
  
"Do you have her resume ready?" Laura asked before the conversaiton could cause an argument between the two siblings.  
  
Fenton offered Gertrude the envelope he held. "Remember, the entire place is bugged so we will know what is going on. You won't have to worry about getting in contact with us. Try and get Joe to talk to you if at all possible," he said, his brown eyes pleading. Joe may be his adopted son, but Gertrude knew Fenton loved Joe as if he were his own flesh and blood, as did she.  
  
"Of course," she assurred her little brother, hating to see him suffer. "Don't worry," she added to everyone. "We will get Joe home safe and sound."  
  
Gertrude arrived at the Moody's by cab a little over thirty minutes later. She was escorted into the living room by Charles. "Ms. Ira Martin," Charles introduced her before leaving her alone with Ami Moody.  
  
"Mrs. Moody, I am from the employment agency," Gertrude introduced herself. She held out her resume for the woman to peruse.  
  
"You have excellent references," Ami said smiling. "But it says here you were live-in at your previous places of employment."  
  
"That is correct," Gerturde replied. "The families I worked for desired prepared meals for breakfast lunch and dinner. Too, impromptu parties were frequent and it was more convient to have me on the premises. The agency said you requested someone to come in for dinner only. This is fine. I will simply register at a hotel until I can find an apartment nearby."  
  
"Oh, that won't be necessary," Ami informed Gertrude. "You are more than welcome to stay here. Our former cook's quarters are more on the masculine side, but that can easily be fixed. Our son loves to work and will be happy to paint it any color you choose. You have your things with you?" she inquired.  
  
"My bag is on the porch," Gertrude admitted. "I travel light."  
  
"I will have Charles bring it in while I show you your room and the kitchen. We are having a guest tonight so there will be four of us for dinner," she added. "You can start at once, can't you?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," Gerturde replied. "That's why I am here."  
  
When the boys returned to the manor that afternoon, Phil was grateful Frank wasn't there. Vanessa was monitoring the Moodys, and Laura was taking a nap. Fenton and Callie, Chet, Tony and Biff all took seats in the dining room to talk about the day's events. Phil remained standing; he wanted to be the first to speak. He informed the group of the condition of Joe's back.   
  
"I'll call Dr. Bates and have him call something in to the local pharmacy for Joe's back," Fenton said, pulling out his cell phone. Everyone remained quite as Fenton placed the call. When he was finished he looked at Phil. "It will be at the Merck pharmacy in your name," he informed Phil. "You can go and pick it up in about an hour."  
  
"Ther's more, isn't there?" Callie asked when Phil nodded at Fenton but remained standing.  
  
Phil nodded slowly, his face grim. "Joe told me he didn't want any friends and when I pushed he told me..." Phil swallowed. He still had a hard time believing Austin Moody could have done anything so terrible even knowing how mean he had been to Joe. "He told me that he thought his dad killed the one person who hadn't been afraid to be his friend. The only reason for the murder was because he was Joe's friend."  
  
Frank was relieved when Sturgiss' eleven o'clock appointment drew near. It would be a good time for him to search the man's files. At eleven on the nose, Jeff Thomas arrived. He was a new client of Sturgiss' and from Frank's perusal of his file and Sturgiss' earlier client's file, he could find nothing out of the ordinary. Frank buzzed Sturgiss' intercom to let him know his luncheon appointment had arrived.  
  
Sturgiss' door opened and he exited. A few minutes later, the two men left and Frank was left alone. He peeked outside and watched Sturgiss and Thomas get into a black Lexus and drive away before he began his investigating. He began by pulling Moody's file. He looked through it briefly then took it over to the fax machine and sent copies to his father's fax machine back in Bayport. Putting Moody's folder up he pulled Ralph Freemont's and Ronnie Harrison's and repeated the process. Finished, he looked around the office and figured he had better do something to at least make it look like he had been busy in Sturgiss' absence. He might have to return the next day after all.  
  
Joe got out of the limo and went inside. "Joesph!" he was accosted by his mother's voice before he reached the steps. He turned around and went into the living room and stood stiffly in front of his mother.  
  
"We have a new cook. Her name is Ms. Martin. You will go into the kitchen and help her prepare dinner for this evening. Later, you will rennovate her room to her choosing," Ami told him.   
  
"Yes, Ma'am," Joe responded.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ami demanded when Joe never moved.  
  
"Nothing, ma'am," Joe replied, heading into the kitchen.  
  
Gertrude looked up as Joe entered. "I'm here to help," he said, his face lacking the carefree smile she was used too. It was almost like he was a different person.   
  
"Set your backpack down over there," she told him, watching as she did so. She pulled out a potato peeler and set some potatoes on the counter. Joe picked up the peeler gingerly. "What happened to your hands?" she demanded, grabbing them and flipping them over.  
  
"I fell into some briars," Joe lied, pulling away from her and going for the peeler he had dropped when she had grabbed him.  
  
"You...you can't help me," Gertrude told him, trying to control the burning rage she felt against the Moodys. "Why don't you start on your homework instead?" she suggested.  
  
"I'm supposed to help you," Joe said, his voice pleading.  
  
Gertrude realised he might be punished for not doing as he was told if she sent him away. "Sit at the table over there and do your homework," she instructed.  
  
Joe put the peeler down and took his backpack over to the table as instructed. As he unloaded his backpack, his stomach growled. He ingnored it knowing better than to ask for anything and opened his physics book. Gertrude opened the refrigerator and pulled out something. She picked up a spoon and carried it over to Joe and set it down. "Here," she said. "I made an extra mousse for dessert. You can have it now."  
  
Joe looked surprised at the generous offer. "Thank you," he said, picking up the spoon. He took one big bite and let it slide down his throat. He froze and looked at the cook. "This is very good," he said.   
  
"Thank you," Gertrude replied. "If you like, I can fix you a snack every afternoon after school?" she offered.  
  
"No, that won't be necessary," Joe replied. "But thank you for the offer. I doubt you could cook as well as my mom."  
  
"Mrs. Moody cooks?" Gertrude asked in surprise.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Joe asked sarcastically. "No, I meant my mother. The one who loves me."  
  
"Do you believe that?" Gertrude asked him.  
  
"Believe what?" Joe asked.  
  
"That this woman loves you more than your natural mother?" Gertrude clarified.  
  
"Of course," he answered. "And so does my dad and brother and..aunt."  
  
"How can you have a father and brother and mother and aunt and still have Mr. and Mrs. Moody as your parents?" she asked.  
  
"And that is the question of the hour, isn't it?" Joe asked, shaking his head and taking another bite of mousse.  
  
"Well, what is the answer?" Gertrude demanded. "If you know this other family still loves you, then why are you here?"  
  
"Because the Moodys are my parents," Joe answered. "A make-believe family doesn't change anything."  
  
"We are not make believe!" Gertrude informed him hautily, freezing and staring at him in understanding as Joe smiled thinly at her. 


	14. Chapter 14

"Joe, I.." Gertrude began, but Joe cut her off.  
  
"Get out of here," Joe ordered her. "I don't want you here."  
  
"Of course you don't," Gertrude told him. "You don't even want to be here, but you are. I want to know why?"  
  
"I have to be," Joe answered.  
  
"No you don't," she insisted. "Your father already has his lawyer working on that ridiculous adoption clause. You know it won't stand up."  
  
"It doesn't matter," Joe told her, his expression set. "I am not leaving."  
  
"Then neither am I," Gertrdue told him, planting her hands onher hips. "I am not leaving here unless you go with me."  
  
"You don't understand," Joe said, his blue eyes pleading. "You have to go. You're in danger if you stay here. So is mom and dad and Frank."  
  
"How?" she demanded. "How are we in danger?"  
  
Joe shook his head. "Just leave, please?"  
  
"No," she told him, then turned her attention to the stove as something began boiling over. When she turned her attention back to Joe, he was gone.  
  
When Sturgiss arrived later that evening, Joe was dressed and standing by his father's side in the living room when Charles announced him. "Hello Carl," greeted Austin, shaking his hand. "You remember my son, Joesph?"  
  
"My, how you have grown," Sturgiss commented shaking Joe's hand. "I understand you are ready to become involved in your father's financial ventures."  
  
Austin laughed at Joe's discomfiture. Charles entered the living room at this point and announced dinner was ready. Ami took Sturgiss' arm. "You men can discuss business after dinner," she commented. "Let's go, shall we?"  
  
The first course went smoothly. Gertrude had prepared Waldorf Salad and Joe devoured every last bite whereas the others left a bit in anticipation of the next course. Gertrude brought it in after first removing the salad plates. Ami picked up her spoon and took a large sip of the soup placed in front of her. Her face contoted with her lips puckering. She shivered as the liquid went down her throat.   
  
"What's wrong?" Gertrude asked, alarmed at the woman's response.   
  
"Taste it," Ami ordered, wiping her mouth on a napkin.   
  
Gertrude did as ordered and forced herself not to look at Joe as she did so. "Salt," she croaked.   
  
"I thought you were a professional," Ami stated. "Do you always ruin business dinners?"  
  
"No ma'am," Gertrude said. "I don't know how it happened."  
  
"Joesph?" Ami demanded looking at him.  
  
Joe's face paled at the accusation in his mother's tone. He knew he was in serious trouble but it would be worth it if his aunt were to be forced to leave. "It couldn't have been him," Gertrude lied, knowing full well it was. "He came in to help but I sent him away. I dislike sharing my kitchen with anyone."  
  
Gertrude thought Ami actually looked disappointed at the news. "In that case, I am sorry but you simply won't do. You have to gather your bags and Charles will drive you to a hotel."  
  
"If I am being fired, I would prefer to take a taxi, thank you very much," Gertrude said stiffly.  
  
"As you wish," Austin said. "I will call for you one. Joe, help her with her things."  
  
Joe stood up at once and followed Gertrude from the room. "Why did you do that?" she demanded when they were in her bedroom.   
  
"I don't want you here," Joe told her. "But thank you for not turning me in."  
  
"I would never do anything to hurt you," Gertrude told him, pulling him close and giving him a hug. "But I don't understand why you won't leave. It doesn't make any sense."  
  
"I want to be my father's heir," Joe told her.  
  
"Right. The boy who would give the shirt off of his back in sub-zero weather wants to be abused just so he can inheirt a fortune," she responded sarcastically. "How about the truth?" Joe remained silent. "You do know we aren't going to give up. Until we get you back Fenton, Frank and the rest of us will do whatever it takes."  
  
"You can't," Joe said in a strangled whisper. "He...he'll..."  
  
"He will what?" Gertrude demanded. "He can't do anything. You know he could never get away with doing anything. Fenton is too famous for him to even try."  
  
"He has this powder," Joe said. "All one has to do is breathe it in and the person becomes infected. It makes contact with any other person extremely painful."  
  
"Nonsense," Gertrude insisted. "No such powder exists."  
  
"Remember the powder they used on Frank in Hiati to turn him into a zombie?" Joe asked. Gertrude nodded. "Well, what you don't know is that I was given that powder too but the guy who gave it to me had the antidote. Well, Austin had a team of researchers go down and work on a cure for autisim for his pharmacutical company. The drug they developed from that antidote, when used on a normal person, makes it painful for them to hear noises of any kind. Even their own heartbeat."  
  
"Joe, honey, he's lying," Gertrude told him. "He would say anything to make you stay with him."  
  
Joe shook his head. "I saw the video the scientist sent. There isn't a cure for it, but the drug has been sold to the government as a biological weapon. He showed me a photocopy of the check he received from the government for the purchase." 


	15. Chapter 15

Back at the manor everyone was in shock. When the fiasco at dinner had started, Vanessa had called everyone in to listen. Frank looked at his father. "He's letting them hurt him to protect us," he said, his voice hoarse. If Austin Moody were there right now he would willingly choke the life out of the man.  
  
Fenton never said a word. He pulled out his cell phone and called Jack Wayne. Jack owned and operated a flying courier service in Bayport but whenever Fenton needed him, he made arrangements to be his personal pilot. "Jack, I need to fly to DC right away," Fenton told him. "I'll be at the airport in about an hour and a half."  
  
When he hung up, he looked at Frank. "You keep your job with Sturgiss. Find out what the dinner buisness meeting was about and keep an eye out for any new contracts...especially if they have Joe's name on them." He looked at everyone else. "Keep going as you did today," he ordered.   
  
"We have to tell Joe," Frank said.  
  
"We can't," Fenton said. "You heard what he did to Gertrude. He would turn everyone in even if it meant he got hurt in the process."  
  
"No," Frank argued. "Once he finds out we know about the drug and that you are going to the Department of Defense to see about an antidote, he won't turn us in. Dad, he needs to know he isn't alone," Frank insisted. "He has to have hope."  
  
"All right," Fenton finally agreed. He looked at Phil. "You can fill him in tomorrow when you take care of his back."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Phil agreed at once.  
  
Gertrude arrived a few minutes later. "Where is Fenton?" she demanded, not seeing him.   
  
"He's gone to DC," Laura said, then brought her up to date on the latest plan.   
  
The next morning Frank arrived at Sturgiss' office as he was unlocking the door. "I'm glad you're here early," Sturgiss told Frank, opening the door and letting Frank precede him inside. "I have several documents that need to be copied. Three copies of each. Then run them down the street to Mike's Insurance and get Dorothy to notarize them.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Frank agreed.  
  
Sturgiss set his briefcase on Frank's desk and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Frank, shut his briefcase, then took it with him into his office and closed the door.  
  
Frank opened the folder he had been given and walked over to the photo-copy machine. As he lifted the lid, the phone rang. Leaving the lid up and the folder on the table beside the copier, Frank went to answer the phone. "Carl Sturgiss, attorney-at-law," he said upon lifting the receiver.  
  
"This is Ronnie Harrison," came an agitated voice. "I want to talk to Carl. Now," he commanded.  
  
"Please hold," Frank said, then flipped a switch on the intercom. "Sir, Ronnie Harrison is on the phone. He sounds upset."  
  
"Thank you," Sturgiss replied, then picked up the phone. Frank bit his bottom lip, wondering what had Harrison in a snit but short of listening in and, most likely, getting caught, there was no way he could find out. He walked back over to the copier.  
  
"Frank!" Sturgiss bellowed before Frank could set the copier for the appropriate number of copies. "Get in here!"  
  
Frank went into Sturgiss' inner sanctum and stood waiting quietly while Sturgiss finished his conversation.  
  
"One of my clients has been arrested," Sturgiss informed Frank when he hung up. "Pull Ronnie Harrison's file and leave it on my desk. Then call this number and speak with Donald Pearson. Tell him I want to know everything he can find out about," he paused and looked at the paper he had scribbled on while talking to Harrison. "George Winebarger and Kenneth Dokken. Then finish the copies and get them notarized."  
  
"Yes, Sir," replied Frank, keeping his face expressionless.   
  
"I'm going to see about getting Harrison released. I probably won't be back until after lunch, if then. Cancel all my appointments for the day. If I am not back by one, I'll call," he concluded, leaving.  
  
Frank pulled out Harrison's file and laid it on the desk then called Pearson, who turned out to be a private investigator. He exited the office and walked to the front door. He checked to make sure Sturgiss had left, then retrieved Harrison's file and faxed a copy to his dad's machine. Finished, he returned the file then headed back to the copier. Setting it for the proper amount, he opened the file and looked at the first page.  
  
His brow furrowed and his lips thinned as he scanned the contents of the file. He was already familiar with part of it since he had heard the plans the previous evening after his aunt had been fired and Joe had returned to the living room with Austin and Sturgiss. But the paper he was looking at must have been discussed prior to Joe's return to the Moody's. Obviously, Moody had planned for Joe's return some time ago.   
  
Frank read over the paper. It was a marriage contract! Joe was to wed Rebecca Freemont, daughter of Ralph and Sarah Freemont, six months after Rebecca's eighteenth birthday. Frank scowled as he laid the paper face down on the copier and began his job.   
  
Joe entered his home room and took his seat. "Joe," the boy beside him said, touching his arm.  
  
Joe groaned silently. He wished everyone would just leave him alone."Shh," the boy added. Joe's eyebrows came together quizzically. He hadn't uttered a sound. Why was he being shushed?  
  
"Listen, your dad has gone to DC to see about getting an antidote," Biff said before anything else. Before leaving that morning, Frank had told Biff to make sure Joe knew they would be in no danger by helping him.   
  
Joe's eyes widened in shock as he looked at his friend. "Biff?" Joe asked in a loud whisper. Now that Biff hadn't bothered disgusing his voice, Joe recognized it even if he still didn't see the familiar face through the make-up and dye job.  
  
"Yeah," Biff admitted, giving Joe a sympathetic smile as he saw the flash of joy and relief that had registered briefly in Joe's eyes before the sadness returned. "Your dad bugged the mansion before Moody made you make them leave."  
  
"I don't understand," Joe said, shaking his head. "If you have been listening, then you know I have to be left alone."  
  
"Forget that," Biff told him. "Your dad has gone to talk with the Department of Defense about the poison Moody sold them. He'll get an antidote. As soon as he comes back, you are out of there," he concluded.  
  
Joe's eyes turned bright with unshed tears. Would this nightmare actually end? He closed his eyes and sniffed. "Your dad had Dr. Bates call in something for your back," Biff continued. "Meet Phil in the bathroom after home room."  
  
As the day progressed, Frank felt more and more pleased. He had finished what he had been ordered to do and faxed copies of everything to his dad's machine. He had also called Sam and told him about Pearson and the information requested by Sturgiss. The FBI had contacted Frank shortly after he had hung up with Sam. They had asked Frank to give Sturgiss false information and he had been only too happy to agree. The FBI suspected Sturgiss "leaned" on the witnesses so they were going to arrange to get him in action.   
  
Sturgiss called Frank at one and told him he wouldn't be back to the office. Frank gave him the falsified information the FBI had given him and informed him of two rescheduled appointments. "That's good," Sturgiss told him. "Why don't you just take the rest of the day off," Sturgiss ended the conversation.  
  
Locking up, Frank climbed in the rental he was using and drove to Bayport to get his copies of the papers and take them with him back to the estate. Before leaving home, Frank called his dad's cell phone to see if he had obtained the antidote. He hated leaving Joe with those people longer than was necessary.  
  
"Hello," Fenton answered.  
  
"Dad? Have you found out anything?" Frank asked.  
  
"An antidote hasn't been created," Fenton informed him. "But they are very interested in the fact that Moody may have the poison. It was part of the agreement that everything be turned over to the government."  
  
"What are you saying?" Frank asked, a hopeful smile forming on his face.  
  
"If Moody does indeed have some of the poison on hand, he is no longer a problem." 


	16. Chapter 16

"We need to find the poison," Frank said.  
  
"The only way you can do that is to get everyone out of the house," Fenton said. "But if you do find the poison, leave it alone," he continued. "Don't touch it. Just find where it is located and get back to me."  
  
"Will do," Frank said. "I have copies of the contracts he fixed for Moody and a copy of all the information he has in his file on Ronnie Harrison," Frank informed his dad.  
  
"Excellent," Fenton said. "Fax them to me at 888-5522," he said.   
  
"Will do," Frank affirmed.  
  
"And, Son," Fenton added before Frank could hang up. "Be careful."  
  
Frank's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" he demanded.  
  
"After Phil told us what Joe said about Moody probably killing his friend, I did some checking. There was a teenager, he was three years older than Joe. His name was Dan Sayer. He was killed in a hit and run. No description of the vehicle that hit him and no investigation by the police. The event was swept under the carpet so to speak," Fenton ended.  
  
"So Moody did kill him," Frank murmured.   
  
"And Joe was right. The only reason he could have had for killing him was because he was Joe's friend. Dan was the only son of Blaine Sayer, an alcoholic. Neither Dan nor his dad posed any kind of threat to anyone," Fenton added.  
  
"I don't get it," Frank said. "Joe has never said anything. Why?"  
  
"It was probably too painful," Fenton suggested. "I'm sure when he was ready, you would have been the one he talked to about it."  
  
"What about mom?" Frank asked. "Didn't she know?"  
  
"I asked her when she told me how she adopted Joe," Fenton admitted. "She said he wouldn't talk about what he had been through. He just wanted to forget."  
  
"You can't just forget that kind of stuff," Frank said. "My God, he should have seen a psychiatrist or something."  
  
"Maybe, after this is over, he will feel like talking," Fenton said hopefully, silently agreeing with his eldest son.  
  
"We'll be careful," Frank promised. "And we will find where he has hidden the poison," he added, hanging up.  
  
Frank faxed the copies to the number his dad had given him, locked the house up, and left. When he arrived at the rented mansion, Frank told the others about his conversation with Fenton.   
  
"How are we going to get in there to find it?" Chet demanded.   
  
"I have an idea," Frank said, picking up the phone and calling the Moodys. Disguising his voice, he told Moody that Sturgiss needed to meet with him and Ami. He was out of town but if they would meet him at Scarpillini's in Belview, they could discuss the problem there. When Frank hung up, he was smiling.  
  
The group went to listen in and see if Frank's plan had worked. "Charles," Austin said, hanging up the phone. "Ami and I have to go to Belview for the evening. We are meeting Carl at Scarpillini's. I don't want to leave the car in that neighborhood unattended."  
  
"Of course, I will drive you, Sir," Charles said.  
  
"What about Joesph?" Ami asked, looking at her husband. "I don't want to leave him here alone. You know how messy children are."  
  
"He is far from a child, my dear," Austin said, smiling at her. "But I'll lock him in the basement," he decided. "He can do no harm there."  
  
His teeth hurting from gritting them so hard, it was all Frank could do to wait until the Moodys had departed before leaving with the other teens for the Moody mansion. Frank had insisted Laura remain and listen in case something went wrong. She would be able to call the FBI. Like Laura, Frank knew the local authorities were useless where Moody was concerned.  
  
The teens arrived at the Moody mansion minutes after they had left. Frank picked the lock on the back door and entered the house. "Where's the basement?" Vanessa asked, anxious to see Joe.   
  
"There," Frank replied, seeing the deadbolt in place on the door beside the one leading into the utility room. Frank slid the bolt back and opened the door. Seething when he found the room bathed in darkness, he reached over and flipped on the light switch. He rushed down the stairs followed by Vanessa and Biff while the others waited upstairs for them to return.   
  
"Joe," Frank rasped, seeing his younger brother chained to the wall. Joe sat near the wall, letting his head rest against it while keeping his back out of contact.   
  
Hearing Frank's voice, Joe opened his eyes and looked at him, fear showing. "You've got to get out of here," Joe hissed.  
  
Frank shook his head as Vanessa stooped down beside Joe and kissed his forehead. "They are gone and won't be back for several hours," Frank said, doing his best not to let Joe see the hatred he felt. It was bad enough to lock Joe in a dark basement but chaining him had been overkill. All he wanted was a few minutes alone with Moody.  
  
Frank bent down and looked at the lock on the manacle. The manacle looked new but he could see another, smaller one lying in the floor near the wall and it struck him that this wasn't the first time Joe had been subjected to this type of treatment.   
  
"Can you get it off of him?" Biff asked.  
  
Frank nodded and did just that. Vanessa threw her arms around Joe and gave him a tight hug. Joe uttered an involuntary whimper and Vanessa released him at once. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry," she said, tears running unchecked down her face.   
  
"It's okay," Joe assured her, giving her a faint smile. "It felt good."  
  
Vanessa knew he was talking about emotionally since it was obvious he was in pain. Frank helped Joe to his feet. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked, still worried about them being caught.  
  
Frank told him they had come look for the poison. "Don't worry, we will make sure no one can tell the place has been searched," he promised. Joe followed Frank upstairs. Vanessa and Biff brought up the rear. Joe paused in the doorway, his blue eyes showing how worried he was when he saw his friends gathered there.  
  
"This isn't going to work," Joe said, his voice low. He had subconsciously returned to the practice of speaking softly. One of the many things he had learned to do as a child to survive.  
  
"Yes, it is," Biff said as Joe finally moved and he and Vanessa managed to get back into the kitchen.   
  
"Here," Callie said, handing Joe a brown paper bag. "Your mom made this for you. After you eat, we'll take the bag back with us."  
  
"Thanks," Joe replied, smiling gratefully at her, as he took the bag. Callie turned away, her eyes bright. She had never seen Joe so meek. He was always joking around. Well, not always, she amended silently. Sometimes he was very serious, but his voice had always been strong. Like the others, she was curious as to how this drastic change could have come over him in such a short amount of time. But it isn't a short time, she realized. He lived with these people...with this abuse...for years. She had always thought if it weren't for Frank, Joe would have no cares, no substance. Now she knew she was wrong. Joe was deeper than she had given him credit for. For that matter, there was more to Joe than anyone knew, Frank included.  
  
"Where should we start looking?" Phil asked.   
  
Joe shrugged. "His bedroom, maybe," he suggested. "I'm not allowed in there."  
  
"Are there any other rooms you aren't allowed to go?" Frank asked.  
  
"Charles' room," Joe answered.  
  
"What about Ami's?" Vanessa asked.  
  
Joe closed his eyes and swallowed. "N..no," he admitted.   
  
Phil glanced at Frank. For some reason, Joe seemed more afraid of Ami than he did Austin. But Austin was the one who hurt him. Ami only stood by and let him. Right?   
  
Frank shrugged, his own face troubled. Phil hadn't spoken out loud, but Frank knew what he was thinking. He was wondering the same thing. "Vanessa, why don't you stay here with Joe while the rest of us look around," he suggested, not wanting to drag Joe into the rooms he wasn't allowed, sure it would stress Joe even more. Vanessa nodded, and reached into her pocket to make sure the cream the doctor had prescribed was there. She had demanded it from Phil once Frank had revealed his plan for them to get into the mansion and search. She had thought, and the others agreed, it would be a good time to put on a second application.  
  
"Remember, whatever you move make sure it is put back exactly as you found it," Phil reiterated.  
  
"And if you find the poison, don't bother it," Frank added. "Just locate it. The authorities have to be the ones to handle it." Frank looked at Joe one last time before leaving the kitchen. He would have given anything to take the poison and Joe and leave but he knew Moody would be able to get Joe back. Getting Moody put behind bars was the only hope for peace and safety Joe had. Joe may not be his blood relative, but in every way that mattered they were brothers. And Moody was not going to get away with what he had done to Joe. 


	17. Chapter 17

The teens split up, each taking a separate room in order to cover more ground in less time. "I think I found it!" Chet's triumphant voice came from the Austin's bedroom. All the teens rushed to his side, save Joe and Vanessa who remained in the kitchen.   
  
"Where?" Frank demanded, looking around the very masculine room. He had been in Ami's and the contrast was startling. Where her room had been all pastel, Austin's room was mostly red and black. No wonder they had separate bedrooms, Frank thought.   
  
"In the top drawer of the nightstand," Chet told him.   
  
Frank pulled the drawer open and saw a small box with a chemical compound written on it. Using a handkerchief, he took the box out and lifted the lid. There lay a small vial filled with a light gray powder. Frank eased the lid back down and put it back in the drawer. "Good work, Chet," Frank complimented his pal. "Now, let's get out of here and call Dad."  
  
The teens returned to the kitchen in time to see Vanessa help Joe button his shirt. He had finished his snack and been treated in their absence. "Did you find it?" Vanessa asked, looking over at Frank as he entered the doorway.  
  
Frank nodded. "Are you going to be okay?" Frank asked Joe, looking him in the eyes. He hadn't seen Joe's back and he knew he wouldn't have asked that question if he had. He wanted to get Joe out of there. Just take the poison and go. Sure, Moody might get away, but Joe would be safe. But he had to give his dad's plan a chance to work. So he asked. If Joe answered no, he would not be okay, then Moody nor his own father mattered, Joe was out of there.  
  
Joe nodded. "Why not just take the poison and go?" he asked, a deep hurt appearing in his eyes. Could his father be right? Was he worthless? It certainly seemed so. Even Frank wanted to capture Moody more than he wanted Joe home.  
  
Frank must have read something of Joe's thoughts in his eyes for he hurried to Joe's side and took him gently into his embrace. "I love you!" he declared fiercely. "And if you want to leave now, we will. But if we don't get Moody, he may try and get you again and I don't want to give him that opportunity."  
  
"I'll be okay," Joe said, smiling. "Even if something goes wrong and I don't get to go back with you, I know I have people who care about me. He can't ever take that away from me."  
  
"Nothing is going to go wrong," Frank promised. "And even if something did, I would kidnap you and take you somewhere where he could never find you."  
  
"I hate to interrupt," Phil said. "But we need to leave before they return."  
  
Joe's gaze slid to the basement door. Frank swallowed. He didn't want Joe to have to be put back in the dark basement in chains.  
  
"I'll do it," Biff volunteered. He followed Joe down the stairs and put the shackle back on Joe before leaving him and turning out the light.   
  
The next morning the grades from the math exam came back. Joe looked at his grade and grimaced. It was a 98. He hoped his family would hurry up. He had been lying yesterday when he had said he would be okay. After this grade, he would be lucky if he would be able to go to school the next day.  
  
At lunch, the guys told Joe about Frank's call to Fenton last night after they had returned from the Moody mansion. "Your dad said an antidote still hasn't been invented," Chet told him.  
  
"But the Department of Defense has decided to launch a full scale investigation into Austin Moody and his holdings," Phil put in, seeing the distressed look on Joe's face.   
  
"So everything is going to be okay," Biff said.  
  
"Yeah, that's great," Joe said, not really paying attention. His thoughts were still thinking about his math grade. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory which forced its way into his mind.  
  
"You have one of the best tutors in the country and this is the best you can do!" Austin yelled at Joe, waving the paper with a giant red 96 on it in his face. "Why don't you pay attention?"  
  
"I did," Joe protested feebly, trembling.   
  
"Are you calling me a liar?" Austin declared, dropping the paper and grabbing Joe by the left arm. He twisted Joe's arm until he heard a crack. Joe screamed in pain as Austin released him and shoved him to the floor.  
  
"What is all this noise?" Ami demanded, entering the room, her blue eyes flashing.  
  
"Your son isn't doing his homework," Austin told her.  
  
"I did it," Joe said, whimpering as Austin turned to glare at him. "I did study," he insisted.  
  
"How many times do you have to be told?" Ami demanded, looking down at Joe in disdain. "You only speak when you are spoken too."  
  
"I am going to be late," Austin declared, glancing at his watch.  
  
"You run along, dear," Ami told him, kissing his cheek tenderly. "I'll deal with Joseph's punishment."  
  
"I shan't be too late," Austin told her, leaving.  
  
"Come on," Ami growled at Joe after Austin had departed. She grabbed Joe by his broken arm and hauled him down to her bedroom. There, she shoved him onto the floor a few feet from the door and went to the dresser. She opened the top left drawer and removed a length of cord. "Open your mouth," she ordered, going back to Joe. He did as instructed and she tied one end to one of his back teeth. She took the other end and lashed it to the doorknob. "Back up a little," she ordered him.  
  
Joe scooted back a bit, a whimper escaping him as he realized what she was going to do. She slammed the door as hard as she could. Joe pitched forward, landing on his face, but his tooth remained intact. "Damn!" she exclaimed. She untied the cord from the door and hustled Joe to his feet and out of the room. She dragged him upstairs and into the guest room. She opened the door leading onto the balcony and looked down into the yard below.   
  
"Charles!" she called out. "Charles!"  
  
"Yes, Madam?" asked Charles, looking up from where he stood by the lawn's edge, oil can in hand. He had been checking the oil in the car.  
  
"Bring me the heaviest rock you can find," Ami instructed.  
  
"Yes, Madam," Charles replied, sitting the oil can down at once. In minutes he had joined her on the balcony.   
  
"Set it on the railing," she told him. "Then come and hold onto Joe."  
  
Charles did as requested and she tied the loose end to the rock. She shoved it over the edge. Charles held Joe tight as he screamed, his tooth following the rock down. Ami turned to him. "Will you ever make another poor grade?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"Joe. Joe. Are you okay?" Phil asked, worry etched on his face as well as in his voice.  
  
Joe opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, bringing himself back to the present. "Yeah. I'm fine," Joe replied, distractedly.   
  
When Joe arrived home that afternoon, he was granted a slight reprieve. Both Ami and Austin were gone. Charles parked the car and got out. Joe climbed out and started for the house but Charles blocked his way. "Come to my quarters," Charles told him. "I have something for you to do."  
  
"F...F...Father ordered me to do something in his office when I got home," Joe hedged.   
  
"Be quick about it, then," Charles ordered, moving away.  
  
Joe hurried into the house. For one quick moment, he wished his parents were there. If they punished him for not making a 100, then Charles would leave him alone. He still didn't know what he had in mind, but he had already proven he could be cruel when instructed. What he might do on his own terrified Joe.  
  
Joe kept busy in the office until his parents returned. Austin sent for Joe at once.  
  
"Let me see your grade," he instructed. Joe hesitantly removed the paper from his back pocket where he had been carrying it ever since he had received it. He unfolded it and handed it to his father.  
  
Austin looked at the paper then at Joe. "Still as stupid as ever, I see," he stated, his gaze not leaving Joe's face. Joe looked at the floor. "How do you expect anyone to ever show you any respect when you can't even answer a few simple questions right?" Austin continued.  
  
"That creep!" Biff declared, his face red in anger, as he listened to Austin through the speaker. "Joe made a 98 on that test!"  
  
"Shh!" Frank said. Austin was speaking again.   
  
"You are so dumb. How could anyone ever like you? It's no wonder the Hardys gave you up so easily. They were probably grateful to have you taken off their hands!"   
  
"Yes, Father," Joe agreed, too pleasantly.  
  
"Think it's funny, do you?" Austin demanded, slapping Joe across the face. "Charles!" he called out.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Charles replied, coming into the room.   
  
"Take Joe to his room and have him strip to his underwear. Then tie him to the bed," Austin ordered. "I will be there momentarily." 


	18. Chapter 18

Frank leapt to his feet and headed for the door but Biff and Tony were there before him, barring the way. "Ease up," Phil said from behind him.   
  
"That bastard is going to hurt him again," Frank argued.  
  
"We know," Laura said, tears streaming down her face. "But Fenton said he would be here this evening. We have to wait for him."  
  
"What if he's too late?" Frank demanded, his brown eyes haunted.  
  
"He won't kill Joe," Phil reminded him. "He went to too much trouble to get him back."  
  
"But..."  
  
"I know," Laura told him, her voice thick but gentle. "If it gets too bad, we will go after him anyway," she promised. Frank nodded miserably. He knew they were right. But having to listen to Joe being hurt was almost more than he could bare.  
  
Charles ushered Joe upstairs and watched as Joe stripped down to his briefs. Charles raked his fingers over Joe's already tender back causing him to groan as he jerked away from Charles' touch. "On your back," Charles ordered, picking up a length of rope from beneath the corner of the bed.   
  
Joe did as he was told and was soon bound, spread eagle, to the bed. Charles smiled down at the hapless youth. "One of these days," Charles whispered as he leaned close to Joe's ear. "You will be at my mercy. I bought a book especially for you. It's called Torture Through the Ages. I always wondered what could drive a person to confess to being a witch when they knew what would happen to them and their families if they did. One day, I will find out."  
  
Charles laughed as he noticed Joe's abdomen begin to tremble at the threat. He ruffled Joe's hair then left the room. Minutes later, Austin entered. He pulled off his belt and stood looking down at Joe. He fingered the buckle, looking at it with a kind of pride he had never shown his son.   
  
Joe swallowed. He was finding the waiting almost as unbearable as he knew the punishment would be. "Do you know how degrading I find it to have such an imbecile for a son?" Austin inquired, looking down at Joe malevolently.   
  
Joe never answered. He remained quiet even though he knew this would further anger his father. Austin's gaze narrowed on Joe. "You pathetic excuse for a human being," he snarled. "If you had been half of what you were supposed to be your life could have been perfect. Your mother and I would have doted on you," he lied. "But you had to be a stupid, clumsy, clod!" He accentuated each word with a swish of the belt. The buckle marring his skin as it struck, first his stomach, then his left leg and then his right arm.   
  
Joe cried out as he felt the buckle hit the first time, but knowing his family and friends were listening, he bit his bottom lip as Austin continued his punishment. By the time he had finished almost ten minutes later, Joe's bottom lip was bleeding almost as much as the fresh wounds on his thighs.   
  
Austin dropped the belt and left the room. Joe lay still, letting the tears roll down his face. His father had left him tied up which meant he was either to stay this way until the next morning, or he wasn't finished.   
  
The scent of her perfume assaulted Joe's nostrils before he saw Ami enter the room. She gave him her patented bored look as she sat down on the bed beside him. "Ah, honey. You do like to make your father angry, don't you?" she queried. She ran a fingernail down Joe's side, scraping the raw flesh and bringing blood. "You know it gives him pleasure to hear you scream and beg for mercy." She moved her finger to Joe's lips and traced them. "And it is important that we keep your father happy. He hasn't had a very good day," she added, smiling.  
  
"I bought you a present while I was out earlier," she informed him. At these words, Charles entered the room with a bag. "Sit it here," she ordered Charles, indicating the floor by her feet. Charles did as told and then departed.  
  
Ami reached into the bag and pulled out a taper candle. "Now, let's see if we can make your father happy, shall we?" she asked, pulling a lighter from her pants pocket and lighting the candle.  
  
She held the candle over the open wound on Joe's left thigh and let the hot wax drip onto it. Joe inhaled, clinching his eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over him. "No?" she asked. "I'm sorry," she said. blowing the candle out. "I guess you don't have enough open wounds for this to really hurt yet. I know," she added, as a thought seemed to come to her. "Stay there, I'll be right back." She got up and left the room.   
  
"I don't care if we aren't supposed to go over there. I am not going to let that witch hurt him anymore!" Frank declared, heading out of the room with his friends right behind him.  
  
Ami was back in less than a minute with a razor in her hand. "I bet your father would love a wallet made from your skin," she said, placing the razor on the bottom of Joe's foot. 


	19. Chapter 19

Frank hurried out to the car, his friends close behind. Even Laura had decided to join the procession. Frank jumped into the rental he had been driving as Tony, Phil, and Biff joined him. Chet joined Laura, Vanessa and Callie in the other car. Frank stepped on the gas and took off. He took the roads at a fast clip, quickly losing sight of the other car in the rearview mirror. He was terrified they would be too late. He rounded the final curve that brought him to the Moody mansion and slammed on the brakes.  
  
The car did a complete one-eighty before coming to a halt inches from a military jeep. Shocked, all the boys clambered out of the car. "My brother's in there," Frank told the first officer he saw.  
  
The man nodded, and stepped aside. He had been told the boy might put in an appearance and should be allowed to enter. Frank took off at a run as his friends started to follow but were halted. They had not been issued clearance.  
  
Frank ran up the steps and in through the front door. He saw Austin, Ami and Charles being searched as he rushed past them up the stairs to Joe's bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, his breathing irregular, and looked at his father tenderly holding Joe as he wept.  
  
"Joe," Frank emitted the strangled cry as he neared the bed. Joe looked up, his eyes blood-shot in his tear-streaked face. But instead of seeing pain or anguish in that face, Frank saw relief and joy.   
  
Afraid to touch him, Frank took his head and pulled it to him, kissing the top of it. He didn't know what to say. Joe, however, seemed to have no problem with words.  
  
"I love you," Joe whispered, his head still buried in Frank's embrace.  
  
"I love you too, Baby Brother," Frank rasped. He looked into his father's eyes. "Can we take him home now?" he demanded.  
  
"No," Fenton declared but continued before Frank could tear into him. "An ambulance is on its way. I think Joe should go to the hospital and be treated. Then we will take him home where he belongs."  
  
"What happened?" Frank asked. "How did you get here? How did you manage the army?"  
  
"To begin with, the false information you fed Sturgiss was a big help. He leaned on the witness, on tape and film and in front of two unseen agents. When that didn't work, he sent someone to kill one of the fake relatives. The man confessed that he had been sent to murder him by Sturgiss. Sturgiss, in turn, when confronted with the evidence and testimony, decided to turn state's evidence against Moody and several of his other clients. There is enough information to lock up Moody up for eternity."  
  
"But what about the army?" Frank asked.  
  
"The poison Moody kept after selling it to the government made him guilty of treason. Getting the army to move in had nothing to do with me. My only problem was getting them to let me come with them."  
  
The ambulance arrived and Joe was gently placed on the stretcher and carted downstairs. Charles looked over at Joe. "Help me," he told Joe. "Tell them I had nothing to do with the poison. You owe me!"  
  
"He owes you alright!" Frank snarled. "And I'll be glad to pay you back!" he added threateningly, raising his fists and stepping forward.   
  
"Easy, Son," Fenton said, latching onto his arm and bringing him to a stop. Joe needs you. "Killing him won't help Joe."  
  
"You would kill for that worthless piece of scum?" Austin demanded in contempt, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"If I'm the worthless scum, why are you the one wearing handcuffs?" Joe asked, smirking.   
  
It was late the next afternoon and Fenton, Laura and Frank were sitting in the hospital room where Joe sat on the edge of his bed waiting for the nurse to arrive with his release papers. The doctor had suggested Joe stay the night at the hospital for observation and none of the Hardys were prepared to disagree with him, except Joe who wanted to go home, but he was quickly overruled.  
  
Joe looked anxiously at the door when Roger Dunderson, the Hardy family lawyer, walked into the room. "What's wrong?" he asked, hoarsely. He couldn't bare it if he had to leave the Hardys again.   
  
"Nothing's wrong," Dunderson quickly assured the distraught boy. "Matter of fact, I figured you wouldn't want to wait any longer than necessary for what I have in my briefcase and when I stopped at your house and found out from your neighbor that you were here, I came straight over."  
  
He set his briefcase down on the movable tray by the bed and opened it up. He removed a pen from his pocket and held it out to Fenton. "A complete new adoption," he said. "No one will be able to protest this adoption. Once signed, Joe will be Joesph Paul Hardy for the rest of his life and there isn't anything anyone can do about it."  
  
"Hallelujah!" Frank whooped loudly. Fenton took the pen, and beaming, signed his full name on the spaces Dunderson showed him then handed the pen to Laura who quickly did the same. She sat down on the bed beside Joe and gave him a hug.   
  
"I told you, you're mine, forever," she told him in her fiercest voice as she held him.   
  
Joe smiled, remembering waking up in the hospital the day after she had rescued him from his parent's house.   
  
The blond headed woman who had shown him real compassion sat in the chair by the hospital bed. She gasped when she saw him looking at her and quickly leapt to her feet and took his hand gently in her own.  
  
"Please don't let them take me back," Joe begged her, his voice a ragged whisper.  
  
"You're never going back," she told him. "No matter what I have to do, you're mine now. Forever," she had vowed.  
  
"I love you," Joe said now, kissing her cheek. "All of you," he added, looking first at Frank and then at his dad.  
  
"You better," Fenton told him. "You're stuck with us," he added, grinning like a proud new papa.  
  
Frank took a seat beside Joe as Laura rose and went with Fenton outside the room with the lawyer. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this," he told Joe.  
  
"I should have told you," Joe said. "But....well, it was just too hard to talk about."  
  
"I understand," Frank said, taking Joe's hand in his own and gently rubbing it. "And I am not going to force you to tell me. But if you ever want to talk, I'll be there."  
  
"I know," Joe replied. "And, well, there are some things I think I need to talk about. Maybe if I talk about them, they won't hurt so much anymore. But..."  
  
"But?" Frank inquired, his voice gentle.  
  
"But I don't think I should talk to you about it," he added, his eyes apologetic.   
  
"Why not?" Frank asked, confused. He wanted Joe to be able to tell him everything. "You know I love you and would never do anything to hurt you."  
  
"That's why," Joe said. "If I told you, you would be hurt. You could not hear what I went through as a child and not be. You care too much about me."  
  
"I can't stop caring about you," Frank said. "I won't. No matter what you tell me."  
  
"It's not that I am afraid you will stop loving me," Joe tried to explain one more time. "It's that if I tell you, I will be hurting you because you do care. I need to talk with someone who is, well, impartial."  
  
"I agree," Fenton said from the doorway. "You've had a traumatic childhood if the past few days is anything to judge by. And, sometimes talking to someone who is impartial is exactly what is needed to help one overcome their pain. I can set you up a session with a psychiatrist. After that, you can decide if you want to continue."  
  
"And if you ever do feel comfortable talking about it with anyone else, then I'll be here," Frank put in. "But until then, I won't push. As long as you start to feel better, that is all that matters."  
  
Frank put his arm around Joe and gave him a hug. Joe smiled, knowing that no matter what the future held or what demons his past turned up, he was going to be alright.  
  
End 


End file.
